tJNIVERSITY  of  CALIFORNIA 

AT 

LOS  ANGELES 

LIBRARY 


FREQUENTED    WAYS 


^  o  X 


Fronfispiece 


The  eflge  of  the  Sella  (Irouj),  to  show  the  marginal  '  towers  '  with  the 
snow-sprinkled  screes  at  their  bases  (see  p.  219).  The  flat  shelf  below 
the  summit  of  the  main  mountain  group  is  well  seen  to  the  left  above 
the  pine  tree.  In  the  itnmediate  foreground  limestone  croi)s  out 
again,  elsewhere  the  softer  beds  forn  the  smooth,  undulating 
pastures.  Cf.  Plate  XX. 
(Photo  hy  Kilophot,  WUn.) 


FREQUENTED  WAYS 

A  GENERAL  SURVEY 

OF  THE  LAND  FORMS,  CLIMATES  AND  VEGETATION 
OF  WESTERN  EUROPE,  CONSIDERED  IN  THEIR 
RELATION  TO  THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  ;  INCLUDING  A 
DETAILED    STUDY    OF    SOME    TYPICAL    REGIONS 


BY 

MARION  I.  NEWBIGm,  D.Sc.(Lond.),  F.R.G.S. 

EWTOR    OF    '  THE    SCOTTISH    GEOGUAPHICAL    MAGAZINE  ' 

AUTHOR  OF   '  GEOGRAPHICAL  ASl'ECTS  OF  BALKAN 

PROBLEMS,'    'animal   GF.OGRAPHY,'    ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS 
SKETCH-MAPS  AND  FIGURES 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

1922 


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PREFACE 


This  book  is  intended,  not  for  the  geographer  in  the  technical 

sense,  but  for  all  those  interested  in  their  surroundings,  and 

the  interrelations  between  these  and  the  life  of  man.     It  has 

fO  been  given  more  or  less  definitely  the  form  of  a  travel  book, 

I    partly  because,  as  indicated  by  the  title,  some  at  least  of  the 

.'      regions  described  are  so  much  frequented  as  to  be  familiar,  by 

actual  experience  or  through  reading,  to  most  educated  persons, 

and  partly  to  emphasise  the  main  purpose,  which  is  to  suggest 

^    the  interest  and  the  novelty  of  the  familiar.     It  is  hoped  that, 

^"^    despite  the  detail  which  it  has  been  thought  necessary  to  give, 

'    something  of  the  joy  of  intensive  travel  shines  through  the 

•    pages. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  state  that  the  book  is  entirely 

pre-war  in  outlook.     The  political  changes  which  have  trans- 

p    formed  the  map  of  Europe  are  outside  its  scope,  and  they  are 

^    too  recent  for  us  to  be  certain  how  far  the  economic  effects,  so 

^    apparent  at  the  moment,  will  persist.     Many,  indeed,  show 

0—     already  clear  signs  of  being  transitory,  and  in  not  a  few  areas 

^         old  conditions  are  in  process  of  re-establishing  themselves. 

If,  however,  there  is  practically  no  direct  allusion  either  to 

the  war  or  its  consequences,  the  studious  will  find  it  possible 

to  read  between  the  lines  not  a  little  having  bearing  upon 

both. 

Save  where  specially  mentioned,  the  photographs  are  my 

"  own.      I  am  much  indebted   to  Sir  Leslie   Mackenzie   and 

Mr.  H.  Hodge  for  the  peculiarly  interesting  views  which  form 

Plate  XVI.     The  drawings  and  sketch-maps  are  by  my  sister, 

Miss  Florence  Newbigin,  who  has  also  prepared  the  index. 

a2 


vi  PREFACE 

Fairly  full  references  have  been  given,  not  limited  to  books 
in  the  English  language.  Apart  from  the  question  of  their 
purely  practical  usefulness,  the  insertion  of  these  is  meant  to 
drive  home  the  notion  that  the  literary  output  of  a  country 
is  as  definitely  characteristic  of  it  as  is  its  climate  or  relief. 
One  cannot  be  said  to  know  any  part  of  the  earth's  surface 
until  one  reahses  how  it  appears  in  the  eyes  of  its  inhabitants. 

Edinburgh,  March  1922. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION  :    WHAT    EUROPE    HAS    TO    OFFER 

PART   I 

THE  GENERAL  CHARACTERS  OF  THE  LANDS 

THE    SURFACE    OF    THE    LAND  .... 


1 


CHAF. 
I. 


II.    WAYS    TO    THE    SUNLIT    SOUTH  :    FIRST    STAGE   . 

III.  WAYS    TO    THE    SOUTH  :    SECOND    STAGE 

IV.  MOUNTAIN,    HILL    AND    PLAIN 
V.    RAIN    AND    SUNSHINE 

VI.    THE    PLANT   AND    ITS    HOME  :     A    STUDY    OF    FITNESS 
VII.    THB    PRIMEVAL    FOREST 
VIII.    MYRTLE    AND    BAY         .... 
IX.    MEADOW,    WOOD    AND    PASTURE    IN    THE    ALPS 
X.    MOORS    AND    HEATHS   .... 
XI.    THE    EARTH    AND    MAN 


<; 


XII. 


VINEYARD,     OLIVE     GROVE      AND     GARDEN  :      THE     OLD 
CONDITIONS    AND    THE    NEW 


13 
25 

32 
38 

48^ 
59 1;  " 
73 

82*^ 

98 
114 
128^ 

139 


viii  FREQUENTED  WAYS 

PART   II 
SPECIAL  :  SOME  TYPICAL   REGIONS 


CHAP. 


PAfiK 


XIII.  WHERE    SHALL    WE    GO  ?  .  .  .  .  163 

XIV.  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE  :     ESSENTIAL  FEATURES 

OF    THE    ALPS       .....  175 

XV.    THEN    AND    NOW    IN    THE    ALPS  .  .  .189 

XVI.    HILLS    AND    VALLEYS    IN    THE    DOLOMITES         ,  .  207 

XVII.    NAPLES      AND     VESUVIUS  :     A     STUDY     IN     VOLCANIC 

ACTION  ......  223  ^ 

XVIII.    BETWEEN    THE    MOUNTAINS    AND    THE    SEA       .  .  240""' 

XIX.    AN   UPLAND   REGION  :     THE    SCOTTISH    HIGHLANDS  249 

XX.    CITY    AND    PLAIN    IN    FRANCE  ,  .  .  265 

XXI.    THE    NORTH    ITALIAN    PLAIN  .  •  .  281  '^ 

XXII.    PROVENCE     AND     TRANSAPENNINE     ITALY  :     THE     DE- 
VELOPMENT   OF    THE    TOWN  .  .  .  297    ' 


INDEX 


313 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FULL  PAGE 


PI.ATK 


The  edge  of  the  Sella  Group,  to  show  the  marginal 
'  towers '  with  the  snow-sprinkled  screes  at  their 
bases  .....  Frontispiece 

I.  The  Falls  of  Morar,  in  the  West  Highlands  of  Scotland  to  face  p  4 

II.  Vigo  Bay — a  characteristic  ria  .  .  .  •         n         ^ 

III.  A  view  on  the  shore  of  Lake   Annecy,  showing  the 

limestone  cliffs  so  characteristic  of  the  Subalpine 
region  ....•• 

IV.  An  old   street  in  Annecy,  a    town  of  the   Subalpine 

region 
V.  Scots  pine  in  the  Spey  district  . 
VI.  Olive  grove  on  the  Riviera 
VII.  Mediterranean  pines 
VIII.  A  slope  on  the  island  of  Capri  . 
IX.  A  limestone  cliff  on  the  island  of  Capri  .  .         „       92 

X.  Near  the   tree  limit   on  Mt.  Revard,  above    Aix-les- 

Bains  ....••))     IW) 

XI.  The   southward-facing  slope  of  the   Romanche  valley 

near  La  Grave  .  .  .  .  •         »     1^2 

XII.  Another  view  in  the  Romanche  valley,  near  La  Grave         „     104 

XIII.  Basin  with  Gorge  above  in  the  Val  de  Bagnes,  Swit 

zerland  .... 

XIV.  Pine  and  Moor— the  Conflict     . 
XV.  The  Moor  triumphant    . 

XVI.  One  of  the  'black  houses'  of  the  Hebrides 
„     Old  and  new  type  of  houses  in  the  Hebrides 


38 

40 
78 
82 
86 
90 


106 
114 
116 
134 
134 


X  FREQUENTED  WAYS 

PLATB 

XVII.  Vines  grown  pergola-foshion  near  Domo  d'Ossola      tofacep.  158 

XVIII.  View  of  Sion  in  the  upper  Rhone  valley        .  .  „  186 

XIX.  The  Western  Margin  of  the  Dolomites  :  The  Schlern 

from  Klobenstein  .....  ?»  208 

XX,  The  Sella  Group,  from  near  the  Sellajoch  Hospice    .  „  212 

XXI.  Limestone  rocks  off  the  shore  of  Capri  .  .  „  226 

XXII.  Near  the  summit  of  the  cone  of  Vesuvius,  showing 

the  unstable  slopes  of  dust,  '  ashes,'  lapilli,  etc.    .  „  228 

XXIII.  The  guardian  of  the  pit — Bocca  Grande  at  the  Sol- 

fatara        ...•••»     230 

XXIV.  An  olive  grove  on  Lake  Como  .  .  •         n     243 

XXV.  View  in  Glencoe,  showing  a  typical  Highland  corrie 

hanging  high  above  the  over-deepened  valley      .         ,,     254 

XXVI.  View  of  the  Cairngorms  from  the  vicinity  of  Rothie- 

murchus  Forest     .             .             .             .             •  »  256 
XXVII.  View  on  the  island  of  Arran,  with  Holy  Island  in 

the  distance  .....,,  258 

XXVIII.  S.E.  buttress  of  Ben  Nevis    .             .             .             ■  ,■,  262 

XXIX.  Canal  in  Annecy        .             .             .             .             •  )>  266 

XXX.  Gondolas  on  the  Grand  Canal  at  Venice        .             .  „  294 

XXXI.  The  Arno  at  Florence  in  summer-time,  showing  the 

marginal  pools  in  which  the  mosquitoes  breed     .  „  306 


IN  THE  TEXT 

no.  ^*^^* 

1.  The  American  agave    ......  7 

2.  Sketch-map  to  show  the  structural  features  of  Europe            .  19 

3.  Sketch-map  to  illustrate  the  course  of  the  chief  railway  lines 

from  the  coast  of  France,  Belgium,  and  Holland  to  Basel 

and  Dijon    ....•••         29 

4.  Part  of  the  old  railway  through  the  Jura  from  Pontarlier  to 

Lausanne     .....••         35 

5.  The   old   railway  route   through  the  Jura   from  Belfort  to 

Berne  .....••         35 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


XI 


e  Mastic  bush . 

7e-leaved  (Jistus 
le  Strawberry  tree    . 
i.e  Evergreen  or  Holm  Oak 
'>e  Routfh  Smilax 

■set  Bay  or  Noble  Laurel 

.calyptus  globulus     . 

e  Black  Mulberry   . 

etch-map  of  a  part  of  the  Swiss  plateau 

ological  sketch-iiKi])  of  the  Dolomite  Region 

etch-map  showing  the  structure  of  France. 

ological  sketch-map   of    Northern   France   to    show    the 

structure  of  the  Basin  of  Paris 

Stone  Age  implement  of  the  Acheulean  type 


61 

63 

76 

86 

89 

93 

94 

155 

193 

212 

266 

273 
276 


INTRODUCTION 

WHAT   EUROPE   HAS   TO   OFFER 

'  The  habitable  earth  is  full  of  bliss.' 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  old  lady  in  David  Copperfield, 
who  took  such  strange  and  elaborate  precautions  against 
death  by  drowning,  expressed  great  indignation  at  the  impiety 
of  mariners  and  others  who  had  the  presumption  to  go 
'  meandering  '  about  the  world.  Her  principles  were  justified 
by  her  longevity  and  the  peacefulness  of  her  final  end,  but, 
so  far  have  times  changed,  that  even  to  attain  her  years,  few 
of  us  can  refrain  from  the  reprehensible  practice.  We  all 
travel  as  much  as  we  can,  and  the  ease  of  travel  and  the 
possibihty  of  distant  travel  increase  year  by  year. 

But  since  the  visiting  of  foreign  lands  has  thus  ceased  to 
be  a  mark  of  what  was  once  called  '  elegance,'  the  really 
superior  person  is  apt  to  feel  that  distance,  difficulty  or  great 
cost  can  alone  justify  a  journey,  and  thus  the  continent  of 
Europe,  especially  those  parts  which  are  easily  reached  and 
much  frequented,  has,  as  it  were,  lost  caste.  Long  ago 
Prosper  Merimee  satirised,  in  the  person  of  '  miss  Lydia,'  the 
nil  admirari  type  of  tourist.  Miss  Lydia  preserved  her  self- 
respect  by  manifesting  glacial  contempt  in  the  face  of  the 
wonders  of  Italy,  and  contemptuously  comparing  an  erup- 
■tion  of  Vesuvius  to  the  sight  of  the  flaming  factory  chimneys 
of  Birmingham.  But  the  '  miss  Lydias  '  of  to-day  are  con- 
strained to  visit  the  Taj  or  the  temples  of  Kyoto  in  order  to 
maintain  their  characteristic  attitude  with  real  distinction. 
It  may  be  said  that  they  and  their  wanderings  matter  very 

A 


2  INTRODUCTION 

little,  but  in  point  of  fact  the  elaborate  organisation  of  travel 
to  meet  their  new  needs  is  apt  to  deceive  many  persons  as  to 
the  relative  merits  of  countries  near  and  far.  Those  whose 
opportunities  for  distant  travel  are  Umited  or  non-existent 
are  liable  to  have  their  judgment  warped  by  the  ceaseless 
journahstic  chatter  about  colonies  and  dependencies,  about 
New  and  Old  worlds,  and  to  feel  that  they  are  losing  much 
from  life  by  the  limited  range  of  their  '  meanderings.'  We 
cannot  do  better  therefore  than  to  begin  a  book  devoted  to 
Western  Europe  by  a  brief  panegyric  of  the  unique  continent 
of  Europe. 

Europe  has,  of  course,  primarily  for  us  the  supreme  import- 
ance of  having  been  the  cradle,  if  not  the  birthplace,  of  our 
civiUsation,  the  region  which  has  produced  what  seem  to  us  the 
finest  flowers  of  human  genius,  which  has  been  the  nursing 
mother  of  the  new  nations,  the  original  home  of  the  races  now 
dominant.  But  these  obvious  facts  must  not  lead  us  to  for- 
get that  although,  with  the  exception  of  the  island  continent 
of  Australia,  it  is  the  smallest  of  the  continents,  yet  it  shows 
more  variety  of  scenery,  of  chmate,  of  vegetation  than  is  to 
be  found  within  a  similar  area  elsewhere.  Does  this  seem  an 
excessive  claim  ?  Let  us  seek  to  justify  it  by  the  enumeration 
of  a  few  facts. 

In  the  following  chapter  we  shall  consider  the  question  of 
the  natural  boundaries  of  Europe,  and  also  the  main  points 
about  its  structure.  Meantime  we  need  only  note  that  while 
Eastern  Europe  passes  with  but  httle  interruption  into  the 
vast  uniform  plains  of  Asia,  and  is  itself  monotonous  in  form 
and  structure,  the  western  part  is  extraordinarily  varied  in 
climate,  in  reUef,  in  natural  vegetation.  Leaving  aside 
meantime  the  facts  of  human  hfe,  let  us  note  how  many  of  the 
most  striking  phenomena  of  physical  geography  are  exempU- 
fied  here  within  a  very  small  area. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  phenomena  of  the  earth's  surface  which 
makes  the  widest  appeal  is  the  fact  that  at  the  present  day 


GLACIATION  :    PAST  AND  PRESENT  5 

glaciers  occur  on  various  mountain  ranges.  Now  the  dweller 
in  London  is  separated  from,  say,  Chamonix,  where  magnifi- 
cent glaciers  are  found  within  easy  reach  of  good  hotels,  by  a 
distance  of  only  seven  hundred  miles,  and  so  short  is  the 
necessary  sea  passage,  so  well-organised  the  train  service,  that 
he  may  accomplish  the  journey  thither  in  just  under  twenty- 
four  hours.  The  dweller  in  Montreal  has  a  far  colder  winter 
cHmate  than  his  cousin  in  London,  but  to  see  glaciers  at  his 
ease  he  must  cross  a  whole  continent ;  a  distance  of  more 
than  two  thousand  three  hundred  miles  separates  him  from 
Banff  in  the  heart  of  the  Rockies. 

If  we  consider  the  inhabitants  of  Austraha,  we  find  that  their 
own  continent,  though  not  very  greatly  inferior  in  area  to 
Europe,  contains  no  examples  of  glaciers.  The  dweller  in 
Melbourne  must  travel  to  South  Island,  New  Zealand,  before 
he  can  see  moving  ice,  and  therefore  a  sea  passage  of  twelve 
hundred  miles  must  be  undertaken  before  his  land  journey 
begins. 

But  the  advantages  of  hving  in  Western  Europe,  from  the 
standpoint  of  a  student  of  glacial  phenomena,  do  not  stop 
here.  Not  only  has  he  typical  mountain  glaciers  within  easy 
reach,  but  a  sea  journey  of  only  moderate  length  separates 
him  from  that  quite  different  kind  of  glacier  which  is  to  be 
found  on  the  surface  of  the  great  plateau  of  Scandinavia. 
Further,  between  the  Alps  and  the  Scandinavian  plateau  he 
has  spread  out  before  him  a  region  from  which  an  ice  sheet 
has  recently  melted  away,  and  where  therefore  its  effects  can 
be  studied  in  detail.  More  than  this,  almost  all  the  great 
generahsations  in  regard  to  ice  and  its  effects  have  been  laid 
down  by  European  workers,  chiefly  on  the  basis  of  their  obser- 
vations within  the  area.  Thus  the  land  is  classic  ground  : 
here  have  the  founders  of  geological  science  toiled,  here  they 
have  reaped  a  rich  harvest  of  observations  and  deductions. 

Perhaps  next  to  ice  the  inner  fires  of  the  earth  make  the 
widest  appeal,  and  here  again  the  western  European  has  many 


4  INTRODUCTION 

advantages.  It  is  true  that  the  journey  to  Naples,  where  an 
active  volcano  can  be  most  conveniently  observed,  iv<  not  short. 
From  London  a  distance  of  some  thirteen  bundled  miles 
must  be  covered  before  one  sees  the  thin  column  of  vapour 
rising  from  the  summit  of  Vesuvius,  but  what  other  continent 
is  in  better  case  ?  We  often  talk  hghtly  as  if  New  Zealand 
and  Austraha  were  near  together,  but  the  dweller  in  Sydney 
or  Melbourne  must  make  a  sea  passage  of  about  this  total 
length,  to  Wellington  or  Auckland,  before  beginning  his 
railway  journey  to  the  volcanic  region  of  North  Island. 
Again,  if  active  or  dying  volcanoes  are  not  very  near  to  us, 
we  have  in  the  Auvergne,  in  the  Eifel,  in  the  Lowlands  of 
Scotland,  all  stages  in  the  dissection  of  volcanic  heaps  after 
the  fires  have  burnt  out,  and  these,  no  less  than  the  rehcs  of 
the  Ice  Age  in  Europe,  have  been  the  training  ground  of  the 
geologists  who  have  studied  volcanic  phenomena  in  detail. 
The  very  fact  that  Arthur's  Seat  rises  in  solemn  majesty  above 
the  city  of  Edinburgh  has  helped  to  make  that  city  a  home 
of  geologists,  has  led  to  the  enrichment  of  human  knowledge. 

It  is  the  same  with  a  whole  series  of  other  phenomena.  To 
study  personally  that  curious  and  interesting  type  of  cHmate 
which  the  geographer  calls  the  Mediterranean,  the  citizen  of 
New  York  must  travel  some  three  thousand  four  hundred  miles 
by  rail  to  the  vicinity  of  San  Francisco.  To  experience  that 
mild,  windy,  and  rainy  type  at  which  we  grumble  periodically 
here  he  must  travel  to  British  Columbia.  But  a  journey  of 
less  than  a  thousand  miles  brings  the  Londoner  to  the  Riviera, 
where  he  may  see  Mediterranean  vegetation  and  experience 
the  Mediterranean  climate  in  its  most  typical  form.  By 
travelling  eastward  a  distance  not  much  greater  he  can  study 
at  first  hand  that  extreme  '  continental '  type  from  which  the 
New  Yorker  suffers. 

Perhaps  at  this  point  we  should  note  that  because  the  mid- 
European  plain,  narrow  to  the  west,  widens  as  we  pass  east- 
ward, and  has  there  great  uniformity  of  surface,  the  conditions 


TLATE  I 


The  l-'all.s  of  Moiar,  in  the  AVcst  Highlands  of  Scotland. 
The  short  '  river  "  which  connects  the  deep  Loch  ]\[orar  with 
the  sea  falls  here  over  a  rocky  sill,  so  that  a  slight  submerg- 
ence wonld  convert  the  loch  into  a  fiord.  (Of.  Locli  Etive  a 
little  further  south.) 


YOUNG  FOLDED  MOUNTAINS  5 

in  Russia  recall  those  of  the  larger  continents  of  Asia  and 
America.  To  get  variety  of  scenery,  of  cUmatic  conditions, 
of  surface,  the  Russian  must,  generally  speaking,  make  longer 
journeys  than  the  western  European.  But  since  he  is  an  ele- 
ment, if  a  somewhat  remote  one,  in  the  civiUsation  of  Europe, 
we  have  to  note  that  the  geographical  peculiarities  of  his 
country,  reflected  in  the  differences  of  his  literature  and  social 
poUty,  add  another  factor  to  the  wealth  of  human  experience 
in  Europe. 

Without  labouring  our  point  excessively  we  may  go  on  to 
note  that  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Austraha 
there  is  no  example  of  those  young  folded  mountains  which 
we  have  so  beautifully  exemphfied  in  the  Alps,  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Atlas,  the  Caucasus,  and  so  forth,  and  the  same  statement 
is  true  of  the  length  and  breadth  of  Africa  south  of  the  Sahara, 
as  it  is  of  India  south  of  the  Himalaya.  Over  the  whole 
surface  of  the  globe  there  are  only  four  outstanding  examples 
of  that  interesting  kind  of  coast-Une  which  wc  call  a  fiord 
coast,  these  four  being  Western  Scandinavia,  British  Columbia, 
Western  Patagonia,  and  south-western  New  Zealand.  Of 
these  the  European  example  is  from  the  human  standpoint 
the  most  interesting,  for  the  effect  of  the  physical  conditions 
on  the  people  can  be  studied  there  more  easily  than  elsewhere, 
and  this  coast-Hne  is  within  easy  reach  of  Great  Britain. 
Further,  individual  fiords  are  to  be  found  so  near  at  hand  as 
the  western  coast  of  Scotland. 

The  geographer  draws  a  sharp  distinction  between  a  fiord 
coast,  which  in  its  typical  form  occurs  only  in  high  latitudes 
where  there  are  signs  of  recent  glaciation,  and  that  other  type 
of  sea  inlet  which  he  calls  a  ria.  In  the  fiord  the  valley  walls 
-rise  steeply  from  the  water's  edge,  leaving  at  best  but  a  narrow 
tract  of  land  which  can  be  cultivated  ;  the  fiord  itself  often 
branches  and  winds,  and  its  inner  deep  basin  or  basins  is 
separated  by  a  rocky  sill  (Plate  I.),  which  sometimes  forms  a 
bar  at  low  water,  from  the  ocean  without.     A  ria  is  but  a 


6  INTRODUCTION 

drowned  river  valley,  sloping  steadily  seawards,  and  of  such 
rias  we  have  splendid  examples  in  the  south-west  corner  of 
Ireland  and  ofi  the  west  coast  of  Spain  (Plate  II.),  within  easy 
reach  of  the  fiords  with  which  they  may  be  contrasted. 

If  the  traveller's  interests  lean  to  the  botanical  side,  no- 
where so  well  as  in  Europe  can  he  find  many  diverse  plant 
associations  within  easy  reach  of  one  another.  The  heather 
moors  of  Scotland  ;  the  coniferous  forests  of  the  Alpine  slopes  ; 
the  close,  dense  turf  of  the  higher  mountains,  so  profusely 
spangled  with  bright-coloured  flowers ;  the  resinous  and 
scented  plants  of  the  Mediterranean,  with  their  poorly  devel- 
oped leaves  and  their  often  gorgeous  and  fragile  flowers  :  these 
form  well-defined  plant  groups,  sharply  separated  from  each 
other,  and  yet  all  within  comparatively  easy  reach. 

That  curious  phenomenon  of  the  ousting  of  native  plants 
or  animals  by  introduced  ones  is  so  often  discussed  in  connec- 
tion with  Australia  or  New  Zealand,  that  many  people  have 
an  impression  that  it  is  peculiar  to  that  part  of  the  world,  and 
yet  the  continent  of  Europe  shows  innumerable  examples. 
Almost  as  soon  as  one  crosses  the  Channel  the  white-flowered 
Robinia,  or  false  acacia,  appears  in  every  hedgerow,  and  yet 
it  is  a  comparatively  recent  introduction  from  North  America. 
As  we  journey  southwards,  and  the  cUmate  becomes  warmer, 
the  Tree  of  Heaven  appears  as  a  wild  plant,  forming  thickets 
of  self-sown  seedhngs  wherever  it  is  permitted.  It  is  also  a 
recent  introduction,  this  time  from  the  east.  Round  the  shores 
of  the  Mediterranean  many  American  or  South  African  plants 
have  run  wild — the  tall  agave  (Fig.  1)  ornaments  almost  every 
rock  and  crag,  the  Cape  fig-marigold  (Mesembryanthemum) 
hangs  its  long  traihng  stems  with  their  closely  adpressed 
fleshy  leaves  and  brilHant  magenta-pink  or  yellow  flowers 
over  every  rocky  surface  available,  the  prickly  pear  becomes 
a  weed  on  waste  ground,  and  there  are  many  other  similar 
cases. 

Finally,  if  the  traveller's  interests  lie  chiefly  with  man, 


TLATK  ir 


\'igo  ]Jay.  oti'  the  coast  of  Spain,  a  characteristic  ria. 


EARLY  MAN  IN  EUROPE  7 

within  a  short  radius  from  London  he  may  find  remnants  of 
the  most  primitive  types  in  the  caves  of  southern  France— 
the   handprints   on    a    smoked    rock   surface    where    blood 


Fit).  1. — The  American  Agave,  often  called 
an  aloe,  one  of  the  most  characteristic  in- 
troduced plants  of  the  Mediterranean  region, 
where  it  now  grows  wild  everywhere. 

brotherhood  was  sworn  ;  the  magical  pictures  of  transfixed 
elk  or  deer  which  the  wise  men  of  the  hunting  tribes  drew  so 
laboriously  ;  the  places  of  burial ;  the  fragments  of  old  time 
feasts  ;  the  manifold  traces  from  which  the  social  life,  habits, 


8  INTRODUCTION 

food,  dress,  and  so  forth  of  the  first  inhabitants  of  Europe  can 
be  partially  reconstructed. 

From  this  period  onwards  the  changes  of  human  hfe  can 
be  followed  step  by  step,  as  they  cannot  be  followed,  within 
so  hmited  an  area,  in  any  other  part  of  the  globe. 

When  finally  we  come  down  to  our  own  day,  we  find  that 
the  variety  of  surface  and  rehef  is  reflected  in  a  great  variety 
of  tongues  and  of  social  traditions.  France,  which  is  so  near 
to  us  in  space,  and  which  in  parts  is  so  similar  in  physical 
features,  offers  striking  contrasts  in  modes  of  life,  in  social 
conditions,  and  it  is  but  one  of  the  countries  which  he  within 
easy  reach.  In  brief,  ahke  the  speciahst  in  some  particular 
branch  of  geographical  science,  the  student  of  human  hfe, 
and  the  unspeciahsed  traveller  can  find  in  Western  Europe 
within  a  short  distance,  and  at  a  very  moderate  outlay,  a 
wealth  of  material  which  dwellers  in  less-favoured  regions 
must  seek  over  a  very  much  larger  part  of  the  surface.  The 
interest  of  the  study  of  the  area  is  intensified  by  the  reflection 
that  the  variety  of  conditions  existing  in  Western  Europe  has 
led  to  the  evolution  there  of  the  races  which  have  spread  over 
the  greater  part  of  the  earth,  and  have  been  the  most  potent 
agents  in  modifying  its  surface. 

In  the  chapters  which  follow  an  attempt  will  be  made  to 
prove  the  statements  just  made  as  to  the  infinite  variety  of 
Europe  by  a  more  detailed  study  of  some  of  its  characters, 
and  also  to  suggest  the  joys  of  what  we  may  describe  as 
intensive  travel  within  its  borders. 

The  subject  is  a  very  large  one,  and  a  selection  of  material 
must  necessarily  be  made.  The  method  adopted  is  to  consider 
generally  the  structure  of  Europe,  with  special  reference  to 
those  features  which  influence  the  great  travel  routes,  and 
which  can  thus  be  most  easily  observed  by  the  tourist.  Some 
notes  on  chmate  must  then  be  added,  for  it  is  a  subject  upon 
which  very  vague  notions  exist  generally.  The  plants  of 
Western  Europe,  considered  from  various  aspects,  require  more 


PLANTS  AND  MAN  9 

detailed  discussion,  especially  as  reflections  of  the  local  soil 
and  climate.  Finally,  even  for  those  who  have  no  interest 
in  botany,  the  question  of  the  relation  of  cultivated  plants 
to  the  possible  forms  of  human  society  in  an  area  is  one  of 
surpassing  interest.  We  shall  try  to  show,  for  example,  that 
the  question  of  where  the  vine  can  be  grown  in  Western 
Europe,  and  what  are  the  best  modes  of  growing  it  in  the 
different  localities,  a  question  which  can  be  studied  by  the 
least  specialised,  is  one  bound  up  with  many  interesting 
human  problems. 

Finally,  when  in  this  fashion  we  have  suggested,  however 
superficially,  the  interest  which  modern  methods  of  geo- 
graphical investigation  may  give  to  travel,  we  shall  consider 
a  few  type  regions,  applying  the  new  methods  to  these.  In 
these  chapters  the  object  will  be  not  to  attempt  to  answer 
fully  the  utilitarian  question — Where  shall  we  go  ?  but  rather 
the  further  question — What  shall  we  see  when  we  get  there  ? 


PART  I 
THE  GENERAL  CHARACTERS  OF  THE  LANDS 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   SURFACE   OF   THE   LAND 

'  Russet  lawns,  and  fallows  grey, 
Where  the  nibbling  flocks  do  stray  ; 
Mountains,  on  whose  barren  breast 
The  labouring  clouds  do  often  rest ; 
Meadows  trim  with  daisies  pied, 
Shallow  brooks,  and  rivers  wide.' 

Before  we  can  proceed  to  consider  the  main  points  in  regard 
to  the  structure  of  Europe,  we  must  begin  by  defining  the 
term,  and  it  will  probably  come  as  a  surprise  to  those  Avhose 
geography  has  been  of  the  older  type,  to  learn  that  not  only 
is  there  considerable  difference  of  opinion  among  geographers 
nowadays  as  to  what  constitutes  Europe,  but  that  not  a  few 
of  them  would  abandon  the  conception  altogether,  and  boldly 
separate  the  western  part,  deeply  interpenetrated  by  water, 
and  having  a  surface  of  very  varied  relief  both  above  and 
below  water,  from  the  wide,  uniform  eastern  region,  remote 
from  sea  influences. 

The  argument  reUed  upon  by  those  who  would  keep  the 
existing  conception  of  a  European  continent  may  be  very 
simply  stated.  If  we  glance  at  a  population  map  of  the  world, 
we  find  that  in  the  great  Eurasian  land-mass  two  widely 
separated  areas  of  dense  population  exist.  In  the  Far  East 
in  the  low  grounds,  and  especially  in  the  wide  river  valleys  of 
the  monsoon  regions,  human  beings,  depending  chiefly  upon 
agriculture,  are  densely  clustered.  In  the  Far  West,  chiefly 
but  not  exclusively  m  the  mid-European  plain,  the  popula- 
tion is  even  denser,  a  population  which   depends   largely, 

13 


14  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

though  not  entirely,  upon  manufacture  for  its  maintenance. 
Even  here,  however,  in  small  areas,  as  round  Naples,  in 
Malta,  etc.,  we  have  a  local  development  of  extraordinarily 
high  densities  associated  primarily  with  agriculture. 

Stretching  between  the  two  areas,  which  are  literally 
blackened  by  human  beings  and  their  activities,  is  a  great 
area  of  steppe,  desert  or  high  mountain  land,  relatively  un- 
favourable to  human  hfe  and  for  the  most  part  but  scantily 
peopled.  Thus  we  may  say  that  from  the  standpoint  of  human 
Ufe  Asia  is  the  fertile,  warm  and  well-watered  region  lying  to 
the  east  of  the  central  wastes,  and  Europe  the  densely-peopled 
area  to  the  west  of  them.  Originally  the  populous  part  of 
Europe  was  the  warmer,  more  fertile  parts  of  the  western 
area  ;  now,  as  already  suggested,  the  densest  population 
clusters  round  the  coalfields,  which  often  he  in  relatively 
infertile  regions. 

Between  the  two  patches  where  the  human  ants  cluster 
thickly,  the  central  tract  of  land  is  scantily  peopled  by  pastoral 
nomads,  or  was  once  so  peopled,  and  thus,  theoretically,  the 
line  separating  Europe  from  Asia  should  be  the  line  dehmit- 
ing  generally  the  eastward  extension  of  a  dense  sedentary 
population.  This  is  more  or  less  marked  by  the  crest  of  the 
Ural  Mountains,  and  the  course  of  the  Ural  River,  which  form 
the  traditional  eastern  boundary  of  Europe,  though  the  actual 
line  does  not  quite  follow  that  river. 

But  even  if  we  regard  the  Urals  as  forming  a  more  or  less 
formidable  barrier  to  the  passage  of  hordes,  whether  of  men  or 
beasts,  seeking  to  enter  Europe  from  the  Asiatic  wastes,  we 
have  still  to  note  that  south  of  that  barrier,  between  it 
and  the  northern  end  of  the  Caspian  Sea,  there  intervenes 
a  belt  of  steppe — more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
wide — barred  only  by  the  not  very  formidable  Ural  River. 
Through  this  open  gate  invaders  from  Asia  have  always 
entered — the  Huns  and  the  Tartars  among  tribes  of  men,  the 
rat  and  the  hamster  among  animals  ;  for  it  is  characteristic 


THE  NATURAL  BOUNDARIES  OF  EUROPE   15 

of  the  steppe  animals  that  they,  no  less  than  the  men, 
tend  periodically  to  overrun  their  means  of  subsistence,  and 
to  descend  upon  the  surrounding  cultivated  lands. 

In  these  latter  days,  however,  the  cultivators  are  being 
avenged  on  the  steppe-dwellers,  for  Russian  peasants  are 
pushing  cultivation  out  into  the  steppes,  are  exerting  both  a 
physical  and  an  economic  pressure  on  the  Kirghiz  nomads. 

It  results  from  this,  that  if  we  are  to  take  as  the  natural 
eastern  boundary  of  Europe  the  scantily  peopled  region  in 
Russia  where  cultivation  thins  out,  we  have  to  recognise  that 
it  is  a  boundary  which  has  varied  throughout  the  ages,  one 
which  has  been  pushed  now  to  this  side  and  now  to  the  other. 
Europe  throughout  its  history  has  looked  west ;  its  inhabi- 
tants have  migrated  westwards,  the  trend  of  civilisation  has 
been  westwards.  Asia,  on  the  other  hand,  looks  to  the  east, 
and  in  this  respect  Russia  resembles  Asia.  We  need  therefore 
have  little  hesitation  in  regarding  the  greater  part  of  Russia 
as  Asiatic  in  character,  as  not  belonging  strictly  speaking  to 
the  European  world.  In  other  words,  in  spite  of  the  text- 
book tradition,  we  may  regard  Europe  as  ending  to  the  east 
at  about  the  longitude  of  the  western  end  of  the  Black  Sea. 

The  next  point  is  to  consider  the  southern  boundary.  Here 
again  tradition  does  more  or  less  violence  to  the  actual  con- 
dition of  affairs.  Crete  is  in  Europe,  Cyprus  in  Asia,  but  no 
very  great  distinction  in  climate  or  products  exists  between 
the  two.  Politically  Algiers,  which  is  in  Africa,  is  part  of 
France,  and  part  of  the  southern  rim  of  the  Mediterranean 
resembles  the  northern.  Indeed  any  logical  classification  of 
the  lands,  based  on  modern  principles,  would  recognise  the 
whole  Mediterranean  seaboard  as  forming  a  unity.  If  we 
regard  its  fertile  parts  as  forming  part  of  Europe  in  our  sense, 
then  the  south  and  south-eastern  boundary  of  that  continent 
is  formed  by  the  desert,  the  Sahara  and  the  Syrian  deserts,  a 
barrier  ahke  to  men  and  animals,  and  one  which  man  has  not 
yet  succeeded  in  conquering.    Thus  in  the  east,  the  south-east 


16  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

and  the  south,  we  may  abandon  the  boundaries  of  tradition 
for  others  more  in  accordance  with  modern  geographical  views. 

What  about  the  remaining  boundaries  ?  The  western  is, 
of  course,  not  doubtful,  for  it  is  made  by  the  great  Atlantic 
Ocean.  The  northern  is  the  Arctic  Ocean,  but  we  should  note 
that  by  shutting  o£E  most  of  Russia  from  our  conception  of 
Europe,  we  deprive  that  continent  of  truly  Arctic  lands. 
Canada,  in  a  table  of  statistics,  covers  an  enormous  part  of  the 
earth's  surface,  but  of  that  area  a  very  large  part  is  useless 
Arctic  waste.  Even  in  Russia  the  cultivation  of  cereal  crops 
is  not  possible  beyond  the  Arctic  Circle,  and  not  always  up 
to  that  limit.  But,  for  reasons  which  we  shall  consider  directly, 
barley  can  be  cultivated  almost  to  the  extreme  north  of  Nor- 
way, at  any  rate  on  the  west,  and  practically  the  whole  of  the 
coast  of  that  country  is  available  for  summer  pleasure  trips. 
The  Canadians  do  not  take  summer  trips  to  the  coast  of  Baffin 
Land  ! 

Thus  by  drawing  the  boundaries  of  Europe  after  the  fashion 
just  described,  we  find  ourselves  confronted  with  an  area  of 
great  variety  of  surface,  of  truly  temperate  climate,  never 
excessively  hot,  never  excessively  cold,  of  great  local  fertility 
and  with  an  entire  absence  of  deserts  or  steppes — with  an 
entire  absence  also  of  what  are  called  basins  of  internal  drain- 
age. In  other  words,  in  Europe  in  this  narrow  sense  no  river 
loses  itself  in  desert  sands,  nor  ends  uselessly  in  a  salt- encrusted 
depression,  as  do  so  many  of  the  rivers  of  Central  Asia,  and 
some  of  those  of  European  Russia.  Nay,  further,  no  great 
river  in  Europe  flows  northwards  to  the  cold  Arctic  Ocean,  as 
do  the  great  rivers  of  Siberia  and  some  of  those  of  Canada, 
with  the  result  of  sterihsing  vast  extents  of  level  land,  owing 
to  the  flooding  produced  yearly  when  the  upper  reaches  bring 
down  great  volumes  of  water,  while  the  mouth  is  still  blocked 
by  ice. 

Finally,  as  we  have  already  seen,  Europe  is  deeply  interpene- 
trated by  water,  and  the  inland  seas  lend  themselves  to  easy 


THE  SEAS  OF  EUROPE  17 

navigation,  and  therefore  promote  free  intercommunication 
between  the  various  regions,  and  thus  a  free  interchange  of 
products.  That  part  of  the  surface  which  is  furthest  removed 
from  the  sea  has  the  advantage  of  great  navigable  rivers, 
especially  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine,  which  increase  the  ease 
of  communication.  All  these  characters  have  had  much  to 
do  with  making  Europe  the  great  home  of  civihsation. 

Having  now  fixed  the  boundaries  of  what  we  shall  regard  as 
Europe,  let  us  glance  for  a  httle  at  its  structure,  beginning 
with  the  seas. 

Off  the  west  coast  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  and  to  a  less 
extent  off  the  west  coast  of  Ireland — all  exposed  coasts,  beaten 
upon  by  the  fierce  Atlantic  breakers — the  sea-floor  steepens 
rapidly  to  the  great  ocean  depths.  On  the  other  hand,  as  we 
all  know,  the  North  Sea,  with  its  connecting  seas  and  channels, 
is  shallow — it  is  merely  a  submerged  part  of  the  continental 
mass.  The  position  of  the  British  Isles  on  the  outer  margin 
of  this  submerged  plain  gives  rise  to  sheltered  ports  on  both 
sides  of  the  '  Narrow  Sea,"  and  the  tides  and  currents  which 
sweep  through  it,  combined  with  the  irregularity  of  the  sea- 
floor,  here  with  shallow  areas  containing  sandbanks  eminently 
suited  for  spawning  grounds,  there  with  holes  which  afiord 
shelter  from  storms,  make  it  admirably  suited  for  fish — a  fact 
which  largely  accounts  for  the  way  population  is  distributed 
round  its  shores. 

The  Baltic,  with  but  a  narrow,  island-blocked  connection 
with  the  North  Sea,  is  much  shallower,  is  Uable  to  be  partially 
frozen  in  winter,  and  has  fresher  water  than  the  North  Sea. 
It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  just  as  the  Swedish  plain  bears 
some  deep  lakes,  so  the  generally  shallow  floor  of  the  Baltic 
is  in  places  hollowed  out  by  deep  depressions.  The  irregularity 
of  the  sea-floor  both  in  the  North  Sea  and  the  Baltic  is  one 
of  the  reasons  for  beheving  that  both  not  long  ago  formed 
land  surfaces — they  have  been  moulded  as  land  surfaces  are 
moulded,  by  such  agents  as  ice,  running  water,  and  so  forth. 

B 


18  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

Very  difierent  is  the  Mediterranean.  It  is  in  places  very- 
deep,  sinking  to  two  thousand  four  hundred  fathoms  ;  it  is 
salt ;  it  has  but  httle  tide ;  its  fisheries  are  poor,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  food  that  is,  for  the  presence  of  precious  corals 
and  sponges  increases  their  commercial  value.  Instead  of 
being  merely  a  flooded  part  of  the  continental  sheK,  it  is  a 
deep  fosse,  owing  its  present  form  to  earth  movements  at  the 
time  when  the  great  folds  which  produced  the  surrounding 
mountain  chains  were  ridged  up.  To  these  earth  movements 
we  have  to  ascribe  the  presence  of  active  volcanoes,  the 
frequency  of  volcanic  phenomena  generally,  and  the  constant 
occurrence  of  earthquakes  in  parts  of  the  area.  A  line  of 
shallow  water,  stretching  through  Sicily  and  Malta  to  the 
African  coast,  shows  one  of  the  Unes  of  subsidence.  A 
movement  of  elevation  here  would  divide  the  Mediterranean 
into  two  basins,  an  eastern  and  a  western,  and  the  migrating 
birds  as  they  travel  to  and  fro  between  Europe  and  Africa 
follow  this  hne  of  vanished  land. 

Long  ago  the  present  Mediterranean  was  continued  as  a 
great  sea  through  Central  Asia.  A  part  of  that  eastern 
extension  persists,  in  somewhat  altered  shape,  as  the  Black 
Sea,  just  as  still  another  part  forms  the  Caspian.  The  Black 
Sea  is  deep,  sinking  to  below  one  thousand  fathoms  ;  it  is 
remarkably  fresh  owing  to  the  great  rivers  which  enter  it,  and, 
owing  to  the  absence  of  movement  in  its  depths,  the  water 
there  is  charged  with  sulphuretted  hydrogen  produced  by 
decay,  and  is  therefore  devoid  of  all  forms  of  Hfe. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  the  structure  of  the  land.  The  first 
point  to  reahse  is  that  in  the  south,  near  the  deep  hollows  of  the 
Mediterranean,  we  have  lofty  mountain  chains,  represented 
by  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  Pyrenees,  the  Alps  in  their  many 
branches,  the  Apennines,  the  Carpathians,  the  Balkan  Moun- 
tains, the  Caucasus  and  so  forth.  As  the  sketch-map  (Fig.  2) 
suggests,  all  these  ranges  are  connected  together,  though  the 
connection  is  not  always  apparent.     They  are  composed  in 


MOUNTAINS  AND  HILLS 


19 


part  of  rocks  of  recent  geological  date,  and  are  members  of 
a  great  system  of  folds  which  appeared  on  the  earth's  surface 

a: 


Fio.  2. — Sketch-map  to  show  the  structural  features  of  Europe. 

1.  The  Northern  Uplands,  a  remnant  of  the  Caledonian  Land. 

2.  The  earth  blocks  of  Central  Eurojie,  remnants  of  the 
Armorican  ancl  Hercj-nian  chains.  The  chief  elements  arc  lettered 
((x)  the   Plateau   of   Spain  ;  (h)   the   Central   Plateau   of   France  ; 

(c)  the  Uplands  of  Urittany,   continued  acros 

(d)  Cornwall  auil  (c)  south-west  Ireland  ;  (/) 
tinned  into  the  lihcnish  Uplands ;  (r/)  the  Vo 
Forest ;   (/)   the  Odenwald  and  Spessart ;   {j) 
Bavarian  and  Bohemian  Highlands. 

3.  The  general  position  of  tlie  great  folds,  v 
form  the  mountain  chains  of  Southern  and  Cen 

4.  The  oldest  land  surface  of  Europe,  ex 
denudation.  This  region  forms  a  fragment  o 
another  part  of  wliich  was  ridged  up  to  prod 
mountain  chains  (1). 


late  in  geological  time,  to  which  are  due 
ranges  of  the  crust  at  the  present  day. 


:am 


20  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

We  need  not  here  discuss  in  detail  the  origin  and  characters 
of  these  great  folds,  but  it  is  worth  note  that  the  force  which 
caused  folding  acted  from  the  south  towards  the  north  and 
north-west.  Now,  in  Central  Europe,  at  the  time  when  the 
folding  was  going  on,  there  already  existed  the  worn-down 
fragments  of  very  ancient  mountain  chains  (the  Armorican 
and  Hercynian  chains,  2  on  map),  composed  of  hard  and 
resistant  rocks.  If  we  think  of  the  folds  as  earth  waves 
similar  to  ocean  waves  we  have  to  think  of  these  mountain 
fragments  as  the  shore.  The  folds  broke  as  it  were  against 
the  foreshore,  so  literally  sometimes  that  great  masses  of  rock 
were  carried  over  to  the  north,  as  the  spray  dashes  over  ob- 
structing rocks,  and  we  have  mountains  in  the  northern  parts 
of  the  Alps  which  have,  as  the  geologists  say, '  no  roots,'  which 
are,  as  we  may  imagine,  fragments  of  consolidated  foam  left 
stranded.  Where  the  opposing  force  of  the  foreland  was  least 
there  the  mountain  folds  travelled  furthest  north  ;  where  it 
was  greatest  their  course  was  blocked. 

Note  on  the  sketch-map  how  the  folds  make  a  bay  between 
the  Central  Plateau  of  France  and  the  block  formed  by  the 
Highlands  of  the  Black  Forest  and  Vosges ;  note  also  the  larger 
bay  to  the  east  formed  by  the  Carpathians  beyond  the  obstruc- 
tion of  the  Bavarian  and  Bohemian  highlands.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Central  Plateau  of  France  offered  great  resistance 
to  the  folds,  which  are  here  pushed  far  to  the  south,  and  to  east 
and  west  of  the  plateau,  but  especially  to  the  east,  there  are 
gaps  in  the  chains  of  mountains  (the  lower  Rhone  Valley  marks 
the  eastern  gap)  which  have  greatly  influenced  the  history 
of  France,  for  they  have  permitted  the  influences  of  the  Medi- 
terranean to  penetrate  to  the  north-west,  and  so  allowed  France 
to  form  a  unity,  despite  the  differences  in  character  between 
its  Atlantic  and  its  Mediterranean  segments. 

A  secondary  effect  of  the  existence  of  the  earth  blocks  in 
Central  Europe  at  the  time  when  the  mountain  chains  of  the 
south  took  origin,  has  been  to  give  rise  to  fertile  plains  within 


THE  EARTH  BLOCKS  21 

the  bays  which  we  have  described.  Thus  the  great  curve  of 
the  Alps  between  the  Cevennes  and  the  Black  Forest  region 
has  to  the  south-east  the  plain  of  the  Po,  fertilised  by  the 
abundant  waste  of  the  surrounding  mountains  ;  the  greater 
curve  of  the  Carpathians  shelters  the  large  Plain  of  Hungary, 
fertihsed  in  a  similar  fashion.  These  plains  were  originally 
great  hollows  in  front  of  the  mountains,  which  have  been  filled 
up  by  their  waste.  Spain  has  been  less  fortunate  than  some 
of  the  surrounding  lands,  for  the  presence  of  a  very  large  earth 
block  to  the  west  has  complicated  the  folds,  and  reduced  the 
fertile  plains  to  small  patches,  with  considerable  difficulties 
of  intercommunication. 

From  the  traveller's  point  of  view  we  have  to  note  that  these 
folded  mountains  of  southern  Europe  not  only  give  rise  to 
magnificent  scenery,  but,  owing  to  their  elevation,  many  of 
their  peaks  are  capped  with  masses  of  eternal  snow,  from 
which  glaciers  stream  down  the  valleys. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  earth  blocks  of  Central  Europe  as 
remnants  of  old  mountain  chains.  Let  us  look  at  them  in  a 
little  more  detail,  noting  first  their  characters. 

They  can  be  recognised  by  the  rocks  of  which  they  are 
composed,  and  by  their  structure,  which  shows  that  they  once 
displayed  that  complex  folding  so  well  seen  in  the  Alps,  rem- 
nants of  which  still  exist  in  these  blocks.  (It  may  be  well 
seen,  for  example,  along  the  valley  of  the  Meuse  in  the 
Ardennes.)  But  so  long  have  these  mountains  been  exposed 
to  the  action  of  the  weather  that  the  hills  have  been  made 
low  and  the  valleys  have  been  exalted.  No  longer  do  we  get 
the  elevation,  the  sharp  forms,  the  rapidity  of  waste,  and  the 
other  features  so  characteristic  of  young  folded  mountains. 
In  the  Apennines  one  sees  hills  of  considerable  size  made  of 
soft  rock  hke  clay — but  in  the  old  mountains  all  soft  rocks 
have  long  since  been  worn  away. 

On  the  seashore  at  a  frequented  resort,  as  the  tide  flows  one 
may  see  splendid  sand  castles  rising  above  the  level  surface, 


22  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

with  moats  and  towers,  lofty  walls  and  all  the  devices  that  the 
ingenuity  of  their  youthful  builders  can  suggest.  When  the 
tide  ebbs  at  most  a  sUght  irregularity  of  the  surface,  smoothed 
by  the  action  of  the  waves,  marks  the  site  of  the  vanished 
edifice.  With  such  worn-down  castles  we  may  compare  the 
mountain  remnants  of  Europe,  save  that  we  have  to  remember 
that  they  were  originally  built  up  of  very  varied  materials, 
and  the  denuding  forces  have  been  selective,  taking  away  the 
softer  or  more  easily  dissolved  beds,  leaving  the  hardest  and 
most  resistant.  Further,  their  present  form,  sometimes  bold, 
e.g.  in  the  Cevennes  and  in  Spain,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  when 
the  young  folded  mountains  arose  in  the  south,  an  effect  of 
repercussion,  as  it  were,  caused  certain  lands  to  crack  and  sink, 
with  the  result  that  some  of  the  ancient  uplands  regained 
sharpness  of  outline. 

What  are  the  chief  of  these  mountain  remnants  ?  If  we 
begin  in  the  south-west  we  note  that  much  of  Spain  is  occupied 
by  such  a  mountain  remnant  or  earth-block,  which,  partly  for 
the  reason  just  given,  and  partly  because  it  has  been  greatly 
dissected  by  weather,  has  been  so  modified  that  its  edges  and 
the  harder  parts  of  its  mass  stand  up  and  give  the  appearance 
of  mountain  ranges,  the  ranges  which  school  children  used  to 
be  (and  sometimes  still  are)  taught  to  reel  oS  in  a  string. 

In  France  a  large  block  forms  the  Central  Plateau,  whose 
edge  stands  up  steeply  from  the  lower  Rhone  Valley,  and  again 
gives  rise  to  the  appearance  of  a  mountain  chain — the 
Cevennes.  In  Brittany  another  remnant  gives  rise  to  the 
uplands  of  the  region,  uplands  which  have  produced  a  strik- 
ingly distinct  type  of  civiUsation,  and  are  inhabited  by  people 
of  different  racial  affinities  from  those  of  the  dwellers  in  most 
other  parts  of  France. 

It  has  long  been  recognised  that  across  the  Channel  from 
Brittany  the  same  type  of  rock  reappears  in  Cornwall  and 
Devon,  forming  the  uplands  there  ;  it  again  reappears  in  the 
south-west  of  Ireland. 


THE  CALEDONIAN  LAND  2S 

In  Belgium  the  uplands  of  the  Ardennes,  which  are  con- 
tinued into  the  high  ground  across  the  Rhine,  are  of  the  same 
type,  as  are  the  Vosges,  the  Black  Forest  Uplands,  the  Oden- 
wald  and  Spessart  region,  the  Harz,  and  finally  that  great 
mass  of  upland  formed  by  the  Thuringenwald,  the  Bavarian 
and  Bohemian  highlands,  which  is  described  in  the  geography 
books  as  forming  various  '  ranges.'  Of  the  uplands  named 
the  Vosges  and  the  Black  Forest  are  specially  interesting. 
They  are  separated  by  a  narrow  gap  in  which  the  Rhine 
flows— a  gap  due  ultimately  to  a  snapping  of  the  earth's 
crust,  with  the  consequent  formation  as  a  result  of  denudation 
of  a  steep-edged  valley  or  '  rift,'  which  separates  an  originally 
continuous  mass  of  liighland  into  two  parts,  and  permits  the 
Rhine  to  escape  northwards.  All  these  various  earth-blocks 
can  be  readily  recognised  from  the  accompanpng  sketch-map. 

We  have,  however,  left  unmentioned  another  great  area 
of  upland,  shown  by  a  different  kind  of  shading  on  the  map. 
This  occurs  in  part  of  Scandinavia,  Scotland,  the  north-west 
of  England,  Wales,  and  much  of  Ireland.  The  regions  named 
are  fragments  of  a  once  continuous  land  surface  (the  Cale- 
donian Land),  which  in  very  early  geological  times  stretched 
across  part  of  what  is  now  the  North  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  bore 
folded  mountain  ranges.  The  countries  named  therefore  also 
consist  of  old,  resistant  and  folded  rocks.  The  remaining 
shading  in  the  extreme  north-west  of  Scotland  and  in  Sweden 
and  Finland  indicates  the  position  of  the  oldest  known  land 
surface  in  Europe  (4  on  map). 

The  next  point  is  to  consider  the  characters  of  the  parts 
left  blank  on  the  sketch-map.  These  are  regions  where  the 
ancient  rocks  have  sunk  down,  leaving  depressed  areas.  The 
latter  in  course  of  time  tended  naturally  to  be  filled  up  by 
waste  from  the  higher  lands,  the  waste  being  deposited  in 
beds  which  showed  no  very  great  deviation  from  the  hori- 
zontal. Between  the  Finno-Scandinavian  mass  and  the  ancient 
rocks  of  Great  Britain  lies  another  such  depressed  area,  now 


24  THE  SURFACE  OF  THE  LAND 

partially  filled  by  comparatively  young  and  soft  beds.  Part 
of  this  area  lies  beneath  the  waters  of  the  North  Sea,  though 
not  long  ago  it  was  dry  land.  Another  part  forms  the  fertile 
plain  of  eastern  England.  Again,  a  similar  region  Ues  between 
the  Ardennes  and  the  uplands  of  Brittany,  and  has  been  com- 
pletely filled  by  soft  rocks,  to  form  the  plain  of  Northern 
France.  The  depression  between  the  Central  Plateau  and 
Brittany  similarly  forms  the  plain  of  south-western  France, 
and  so  on.  At  their  edges  these  plains,  which  are  better 
called  basins  {e.g.  the  basin  of  Paris)  slope  towards  the  ancient 
uplands. 

This  description  gives  us  an  idea  of  the  main  structural 
elements  of  Europe.  It  will  be  noted  that  the  variety  of  sur- 
face to  which  we  have  already  called  attention  is  due  to  the 
complexity  of  structure,  for  level  fertile  plains  alternate 
within  short  distances  with  worn-down  uplands  and  young 
folded  mountains :  or,  in  other  words,  centres  of  dense 
population  with  superb  hohday  grounds. 


CHAPTER  II 

WAYS  TO   THE   SUNLIT   SOUTH  :    FIRST   STAGE 

'  Fairy  Lands  girt  by  some  heavenly  sea.' 

The  significance  of  the  structural  features  of  Europe  already 
described  may  perhaps  be  best  appreciated  by  looking  at  them 
from  the  point  of  view  of  their  relation  to  the  main  travel 
routes,  for,  as  some  one  has  judiciously  remarked,  it  is  a 
curious  fact  that  railways  follow  more  or  less  the  direction  you 
would  have  recommended  them  to  take,  if  you  had  considered 
the  question  carefully ! 

Let  us  note  first  the  direction  of  the  main  routes.  The 
part  of  the  Mediterranean  seaboard  which  exerts  most  attrac- 
tive influence  on  us  may  be  said  to  lie  between  the  mouth  of 
the  Rhone  and  the  head  of  the  Adriatic  Sea,  the  whole  of 
peninsular  Italy  being,  of  course,  included.  Now  to  reach 
this  area,  starting  from  the  United  Kingdom,  the  direction 
to  be  followed  varies  from  nearly  due  south  to  south-east. 
This  part  of  southern  Europe  has  always  appeared  in  the 
guise  of  fairyland  to  northerners,  and  to  reach  fairyland  from 
London  a  triple  rampart  has  to  be  crossed,  in  addition  to  the 
moat  which  has  such  terrors  for  many — the  Straits  of  Dover. 

The  first  line  of  fortification  is  breached  and  not  continuous. 
It  is  made  up  by  some  of  the  ancient  uplands  shown  on  Fig.  2, 
and,  as  the  map  shows,  these  are  more  or  less  separated  from 
one  another.  Thus  the  Central  Plateau  of  France  (Auv  eigne), 
though  it  sends  in  the  Morvan  a  long  arm  to  the  north-east, 
does  not  reach  the  Vosges  :  the  Vosges  in  their  turn  are  not 
perfectly  continuous  with  the  great  block  formed  by  the 

26 


26  WAYS  TO  THE  SOUTH  :  FIRST  STAGE 

Hardt,  the  Rhenish  Highlands  and  the  Ardennes,  These  two 
gaps  allow  for  the  passage  of  railroads. 

The  second  fortress  wall  is  formed  by  the  Jura  Mountains, 
which  are  separated  from  the  Alps  proper  by  the  plain  or 
plateau  of  Switzerland,  and  by  a  similar  plain  in  Wurtemberg 
and  Bavaria.  The  Jura  also  are  breached,  though  less  notice- 
ably than  the  ancient  uplands  to  the  north-west  of  them,  the 
chief  breaches  being  due  to  the  exit  of  the  great  rivers,  the 
Rhine,  the  Rhone,  and  so  forth,  which,  rising  in  the  Central 
Alps,  have  to  find  a  way  of  escape  through  the  wall  of  the  Jura 
in  front.     Again  the  breaches  allow  of  the  passage  of  railways. 

Very  interesting  is  the  relation  of  the  Jura  to  the  uplands  in 
front.  Between  the  Central  Plateau  of  France  and  the  Alps 
there  runs  a  long  wide  valley  which,  in  its  upper  part,  follows 
the  curve  of  the  Jura,  and  is  occupied  first  by  the  southward 
flowing  Saone  and  then  by  the  combined  Saone  and  Rhone. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Rhine,  after  its  exit  from  the  mountains 
at  Basel,  runs  northward  (first  north-east  and  then  north-west) 
in  what,  as  we  have  explained,  is  a  rift  in  the  ancient  uplands. 
As  is  seen  on  the  map,  Fig.  3,  the  southern  end  of  the  up- 
land here  formed  a  very  rigid  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  Jura 
folds  as  they  were  pushed  to  the  north-west.  But  while  the 
Jura  approach  the  Black  Forest  so  nearly  as  only  to  allow 
room  for  the  Rhine  to  escape,  between  the  Jura  and  the  Vosges, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  hes  a  gap,  some  fifteen  miles  wide, 
by  means  of  which  there  is  easy  communication  between  the 
Saone  Valley  and  the  middle  Rhine  Valley.  This  is  the  Gate 
of  Burgundy,  a  gap  of  great  importance  in  connection  with 
the  course  of  the  main  routes.  It  is  worth  note  that  so  low 
is  the  watershed  here  between  Rhine  and  Rhone,  that  a  canal 
actually  connects  the  Rhine  and  the  Doubs  (a  tributary  of 
the  Saone). 

What  we  have  called  the  third  of  the  great  walls,  guarding 
Italy  from  approach  from  the  north-west,  is  formed  by  the 
Alps  themselves,  and  the  breaches  in  this  wall  are  narrow  and 


THE  TRIPLE  RAMPART  27 

steep,  and  \vill  demand  rather  more  careful  consideration. 
At  present  we  need  only  note  that  the  successive  members  of 
the  triple  rampart  are  higher  and  more  difficult  as  we  pass 
from  the  north-west  to  the  south-east.  Further,  while  the 
lowest  and  outermost  is  widely  breached,  the  possible  lines  of 
passage  become  successively  more  difficult  and  narrower  as 
we  approach  the  Central  Alpine  chain.  If  we  think  of  the 
tourists  of  the  north-west  as  a  great  army  advancing  upon 
Italy,  then  we  have  to  reaUse  that  at  first  there  are  many  hnes 
of  possible  advance,  but  the  more  nearly  we  approach  the 
citadel  the  more  closely  are  the  advancing  forces  compelled 
to  concentrate  upon  a  very  small  number  of  possible  routes. 
With  this  general  conception  in  view  let  us  note  a  few  details. 

There  are  two  main  junctions  which  may  be  regarded  as 
marking  the  end  of  the  first  stage  of  the  journey — the  traverse 
of  the  broken  belt  of  ancient  uplands.  The  traveller  who  has 
reached  Dijon  or  Basel  has  conquered  the  first  of  the  three 
difficulties  which  he  between  him  and  fairyland. 

To  reach  Dijon  practically  only  one  route  is  possible,  that 
which  leads  from  Paris  first  up  the  valley  of  the  Seine,  then  up 
that  of  the  Yonne,  and  finally  along  the  line  of  the  Canal  of 
Burgundy  and  over  the  Hmestone  region  of  the  Cote  d'Or  to 
Dijon  and  the  upper  part  of  the  Saone  Valley.  (See  the  map 
which  forms  Fig.  3,  p.  29.) 

On  the  other  hand,  the  time-table  ofiers  a  bewildering  variety 
of  routes  to  Basel,  though  on  investigation  these  reduce  them- 
selves to  three,  with  variants. 

The  quickest  route,  but  that  with  a  very  hmited  service, 
leads  from  Calais  across  the  plain  direct  to  the  Plateau  of 
Langres,  which  is  a  dome-shaped  region,  connecting,  as  it 
Avere,  the  Morvan  to  the  Vosges,  and  formed  of  ancient  rocks, 
more  or  less  thinly  covered  by  later  beds.  This  route  avoids 
Paris,  passes  through  Laon  and  Reims,  crosses  the  low  plateau 
without  great  difficulty,  goes  through  Bdfort  and  the  Gate  of 
Burgundy,  and  so  reaches  the  middle  Rhine  Valley  and  Basel. 


28  WAYS  TO  THE  SOUTH  :   FIRST  STAGE 

It  traverses  what  is  now  French  territory  for  the  whole  of  its 
course,  and  enters  Swiss  territory  at  Basel.  Now  Paris  is  in  a 
very  special  sense  the  centre  of  France,  and  the  fact  that  this 
route  avoids  Paris  indicates  that  it  is  intended  to  serve  British 
rather  than  local  traffic,  hence  the  very  hmited  service  of 
trains.  The  more  usual  route  to  Basel  includes  Paris,  and  thus 
is  necessarily  longer,  for  it  involves  a  loop  (Amiens  to  Paris, 
Paris  to  Chalons,  where  the  other  route  is  joined,  and  thus 
two  sides  of  a  triangle,  instead  of  one.)  We  may  note  here 
that  the  most  recently  opened  approach  to  Italy,  that  via 
the  Lotschberg  tunnel,  avoids  Basel,  reaching  Berne  directly 
from  Belfort. 

If  the  descriptions  of  the  uplands  already  given  have  been 
followed,  it  will  be  obvious  that  there  are  two  other  possible 
routes  to  Basel.  As  the  town  lies  at  the  end  of  the  IVIiddle 
Rhine  Valley,  it  may  be  reached  by  travelling  up  the  valley, 
which  may  be  entered  either  (1)  where  its  western  rampart 
breaks  down  in  the  north,  e.g.  at  Cologne,  or  (2)  where  there  is 
a  noticeable  gap  in  its  retaining  wall  further  south,  at  the 
Col  de  Saverne,  e.g.  near  Strasburg. 

The  former  of  these  two  routes,  which  is  the  longest  of  the 
more  usual  ones,  involves  the  wide  sea  crossing  to  Flushing 
or  from  Harwich  to  the  Hook  of  Holland,  and  then  a  journey 
via  the  level  plain  of  Holland  to  Cologne,  after  which  the 
valley  is  followed  to  Strasburg,  Mulhouse  and  Basel.  As  a 
number  of  routes  pierce  the  eastern  retaining  wall  of  the 
Rhine  Valley,  and  permit  of  access  to  many  of  the  towns  of 
the  eastern  part  of  the  European  plain,  the  heavy  composite 
train  which  is  made  up  at  the  Hook  divides  up  en  route,  and 
its  Basel  component  is  not  a  large  one.  The  Flushing  train 
also  chiefly  serves  Germany. 

The  other  route  mentioned  is  interesting.  It  involves  the 
sea  passage  from  Calais  to  Ostend,  then  a  journey  via  Brussels 
to  Namur.  Between  Namur  and  Luxemburg  the  Ardennes 
are  crossed.     From  Luxemburg  the  Moselle  Valley  is  reached 


MAIN  RAILWAY  ROUTES 


29 


at   Metz,   an   interesting  intersection   point   of   routes.     At 
Metz  the  line  turns  nearly  due  east,  and,  skirting  the  anterior 


ketch-map  to  illustrate  the  course  of  the  chief  railwa3'  lines  from 
jf  France,  Belgium,  and  Holland  to  Basel  and  Dijon.     Note  the 


Fir..  3.— Ske 

the  coast  of , „ 

number  of  routes  which  converge  upon  Basel.  The  areas  left  imcoloured 
lie  hetween  sea-level  and  a  height  of  650  feet ;  those  lightly  shaded  be- 
tween 6."i0  feet  and  KiOO  feet  above  sea-level ;  those  shaded  dark  above 
ItiOO  feet  and  below  4!)0it  feet. 


end  of  the  Vosges,  reaches  Strasburg,  and  so  has  the  road  open 
up  the  Rhine  Valley  to  Basel. 


30  WAYS  TO  THE  SOUTH :  FIRST  STAGE 

But  we  have  to  note,  in  connection  with  this  route,  that 
further  up  the  Moselle  than  Metz  hes  the  town  of  Nancy,  also 
an  important  intersection  point.  Now  the  Moselle  once  ran 
into  the  Meuse  near  Toul,  and  its  old  course  allows  an  easy 
crossing  from  the  Moselle  valley  at  Nancy  to  the  Meuse. 
The  next  river,  the  Marne,  also  once  flowed  into  the  Meuse, 
and  thus  there  is  another  easy  passage  from  the  valley  of  the 
Meuse  to  that  of  the  Marne,  and  the  Marne  drains  into  the  Seine 
and  so  leads  to  Paris.  Thus  it  is  possible  for  a  traveller  to 
reach  Strasburg  via  Paris,  the  Paris  and  Brussels  routes 
joining  not  long  before  the  train  enters  Strasburg. 

To  sum  up,  in  order  to  reach  Italy  the  traveller  from  the 
north-west  must  first  travel  either  to  the  upper  (north)  end  of 
the  Saone-Rhone  valley  at  Dijon,  or  to  the  upper  (south)  end 
of  the  Middle  Rhine  valley  at  Basel.  To  reach  Dijon  he  can 
journey  to  Paris  by  any  one  of  a  considerable  variety  of  routes  ; 
from  Paris  it  is  possible  to  make  almost  a  bee-hne  to  his  desti- 
nation, despite  the  intervention  of  the  Cote  d'Or,  for  the  great 
tributaries  of  the  Seine  have  opened  out  a  way  for  him.  No 
perfectly  direct  route  leads  to  Basel,  for  the  Vosges  intervene. 
The  quickest  route  leads  round  the  southern  end  of  these 
mountains  and  avoids  Paris.  Only  very  shghtly  longer  is  the 
route  near  the  extreme  northern  end  of  the  Vosges,  which 
passes  by  Brussels,  Metz,  and  Strasburg.  Travellers  from 
Paris  can  reach  this  route  directly  through  Nancy.  About 
one  hundred  miles  longer,  and  yet  not  without  its  advantages 
to  the  judicious  traveller,  is  the  route  which  leads  right  down 
the  middle  Rhine  valley  from  Cologne. 

To  have  grasped  the  geographical  reasons  which  have  deter- 
mined the  course  of  those  various  routes  is  to  have  acquired 
a  grip  of  the  chief  structural  features  of  the  western  part  of  the 
European  plain,  and  the  traveller  with  discretion  will  so  vary 
his  journeys,  outward  and  inward,  as  not  only  to  see  the  four 
main  routes,  but  also  so  as  to  traverse,  so  far  as  possible,  their 
more  interesting  parts  by  daylight. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  ALPS  31 

This  description  of  them  may  seem  to  some  needlessly 
detailed,  and  more  than  a  Uttle  dull,  but  one  has  to  remember 
that  the  Alps  and  their  continuations  separate  parts  of  Europe 
which  differ  from  one  another  profoundly,  not  only  in  their 
natural  features,  but  in  the  history  and  social  conditions  of 
their  peoples.  It  is  impossible  to  realise  fully  the  contrasts 
between  the  two  areas,  unless  one  understands  the  relative 
difficulty  of  communication  in  different  places,  and  the  lines 
along  which  this  communication  has  taken  place.  The  great 
Rhone  valley  allows  Mediterranean  influences  to  penetrate  so 
far  with  the  greatest  of  ease,  and  we  find  that  Aries  and  Avi- 
gnon are  Mediterranean  in  character,  though  political!}'  French. 
Lyons,  lying  in  the  same  valley,  but  outside  the  reach  of  the 
Mediterranean  climate,  is  wholly  northern  in  type.  To 
appreciate  the  conditions  which  have  determined  the  main 
routes  of  travel,  is  to  appreciate  also  the  hnes  along  which 
more  subtle  influences  have  passed,  and  the  extent  of  such 
influences  is  related  to  the  relative  ease  or  difficulty  of  inter- 
communication. 


CHAPTER  III 

WAYS   TO   THE   SOUTH  :     SECOND   STAGE 

'  Lo  !  where  the  pass  expands 
Its  stony  jaws,  the  abrupt  mountain  bends 
And  seems,  with  its  accumidated  crags, 
To  overhang  the  world.' 

To  appreciate  the  significance  of  the  second  great  step  in  the 
southern  journey,  let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  structure 
of  the  Jura.  The  Jura  proper  extend  from  about  Chambery 
to  the  region  lying  north-west  of  Zurich.  To  the  north-east 
the  line  is  continued  by  the  Swabian  Jura  and  the  Franconian 
Jura,  but  these  do  not  show  the  characteristic  folding  which 
is  so  clearly  developed  in  the  Franco-Swiss  Jura. 

The  latter  are  of  younger  date  than  the  Alps  proper,  are, 
of  course,  much  lower,  and  display  a  very  simple  form  of  up- 
fold  and  downfold,  the  upfolds  corresponding  broadly  to  the 
higher  ground  and  the  downfolds  to  the  valleys.  So  simple 
and  direct  a  relation  between  mountain  structure  and  form  is 
rare,  and  is  in  itself  evidence  of  very  recent  origin.  The 
arches  of  the  upfolds  in  the  Jura  are  generally  broken  at  the 
summit,  and  there  clays  and  similar  rocks  appear,  so  that  the 
broad  plateau-hke  summits  of  the  ridges  are  often  marshy. 
But  to  a  great  extent  the  Jura  are  built  up  of  hmestones,  and 
the  steep  escarpments  of  the  limestone  rocks  are  one  of  the 
most  obvious  and  attractive  features  of  a  journey  through  the 
region. 

As  any  good  physical  map  will  show,  the  whole  chain  con- 
sists of  a  series  of  ridges  (the  upfolds)  separated  by  long 


THE  VALLEYS  OF  THE  JURA  33 

valleys  (the  downfolds),  the  ridges  being  most  numerous,  and 
thus  the  chain  widest,  opposite  the  gap  between  the  end  of  the 
Central  Plateau  of  France  and  the  end  of  the  Vosges  (c/.  what 
is  said  on  p.  26),  that  is  to  the  north-west  of  Lake  Neuchatel. 
The  position  of  the  chief  valleys,  which  run  along  the  chain 
{i.e.  are  longitudinal),  from  the  human  point  of  view  makes 
the  construction  of  transverse  hues  of  communication 
laborious,  and  further  renders  it  difficult  for  the  great  rivers 
of  the  Alps  to  escape.  Thus  it  will  be  noted  that  the  Aare 
runs  parallel  to  the  Jura  for  a  long  distance  before  it  can  make 
its  way  through  the  chain,  and  this  is  true  also  of  the  Rhone 
between  its  exit  from  Lake  Geneva  and  its  sudden  bend  to  the 
north-west  in  the  latitude  of  Chambery.  In  the  heart  of  the 
chain  two  other  streams  of  considerable  size  occur,  whose 
courses  are  of  interest  as  throwing  hght  on  the  structure  of  the 
chain.  Of  these  one,  the  Ain,  runs  south-west,  in  a  direction 
parallel  to  the  folds,  until  it  makes  its  escape  into  the  Saone- 
Rhone  depression,  where  it  enters  the  Rhone  not  far  from 
Lyons.  The  other,  the  Doubs,  begins  by  running  in  exactly 
the  opposite  direction,  that  is  to  the  north-east,  as  though  it 
were  aiming  for  the  Rhine,  then  it  turns  upon  itself  at  a  very 
sharp  angle,  flows  almost  due  west  for  a  time,  again  changes 
direction,  and,  when  it  finally  emerges  from  the  chain,  it  is 
to  travel  south-west  to  the  Rhone.  Without  going  into 
details  as  to  the  meaning  of  this  complicated  course,  we  may 
note  that  the  river  finds  its  way  from  one  narrow  longitudinal 
valley  to  the  next  by  means  of  a  narrow  gap  or  cluse,  such 
cluses  being  common  in  the  Jura,  and  of  great  importance  in 
connection  with  means  of  communication.  Another  very 
good  example  of  a  cluse  is  seen  east  of  Bellegarde,  and  permits 
river,  road,  and  railway  to  escape  from  one  longitudinal 
valley  to  the  next. 

To  sum  up  then,  the  Franco-Swiss  Jura,  which  we  have 
called  the  second  great  rampart  in  the  way  of  the  traveller 
from  the  north-west  to  the  magic  land  of  the  Mediterranean, 

c 


34        WAYS  TO  THE  SOUTH :  SECOND  STAGE 

is  of  complicated  structure,  resembling  a  series  of  broad, 
ruinous  walls  with  intervening  ditches.  It  is  thus  a  consider- 
able obstacle  to  transverse  traffic,  but  the  existence  of  a  number 
of  narrow  gaps,  which  we  may  compare  to  postern  gates 
leading  through  the  walls  and  thus  permitting  communication 
between  one  ditch  and  the  next,  facihtates  the  passage  of  road 
and  rail.  As  compared  with  the  first  obstacle,  that  formed  by 
the  broken  rim  of  ancient  uplands,  the  Jura  are  more  formid- 
able, because  more  continuous.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are 
of  far  less  extent,  which  makes  it  possible  to  avoid  them,  more 
or  less  completely,  by  a  detour. 

Let  us  see  which  course  is  adopted  by  the  various  routes. 
If  we  begin  at  Dijon,  one  of  the  points  which  we  regarded  as 
marking  the  end  of  the  first  stage  of  the  journey  south,  we  find 
that  from  this  town  three  routes  he  before  us.  We  may 
follow  the  Saone-Rhone  valley  practically  to  its  mouth,  thus 
avoiding  the  Jura  altogether,  and  then  travel  along  the  coast, 
between  the  Alps  and  the  sea,  till  Italy  is  reached.  This  is 
apparently  an  obvious  method  of  getting  over  the  barrier 
ahke  of  Jura  and  Alps,  In  point  of  fact,  however,  the  Alps 
approach  the  coast  so  closely  that  both  road  and  rail  have 
been  constructed  with  great  difficulty,  and  the  southward  bend 
of  the  coast,  the  bend  which  helps  to  give  the  Riviera  its 
special  climate,  makes  the  route  long. 

The  second  possibihty  is  to  follow  the  Saone  valley  till  the 
end  of  the  Jura  is  reached,  and  then  travel  south-eastward. 
This  fine  of  advance  leads  to  the  Mt.  Cenis  tunnel,  and  at 
Culoz  connects  with  the  circuitous  route  to  Geneva,  a  town 
which,  so  far  as  international  through  routes  are  concerned, 
lies  in  a  backwater.  In  the  vicinity  of  Culoz  the  Mt. 
Cenis  route  skirts  the  Jura,  passing  the  beautiful  Lac  du 
Bourget  and  Chambery  on  its  way  to  the  Alps. 

The  third  through  route  from  Dijon  used  toleadmaFrasneto 
Pontarher,  through  the  Jura  by  a  somewhat  complicated  route 
(Fig.  4)  and  so  to  Lausanne.   From  Lausanne  the  road  Ues  clear 


RAILWAYS  IN  THE  JURA 


35 


up  the  lake  of  Geneva  and  then  to  the  Upper  Rhone  valley, 
where  the  Simplon  tunnel  leads  through  to  Italy.  This  route,  it 
will  be  seen,  actually  pierces  the  Jura,  and  this  at  a  point  where 
the  chain  is  wide.  The  difficulty  of  the  passage  led  to  a  reversal 
of  the  train  at  Vallorbe,  rendered  parts  of  the  Une  Uable  to 
snow-block  in  winter,  and  gave  rise  to  various  other  difficulties. 
It  will  be  noted,  from  what  has  been  akeady  said,  that  in  the 
Jura,  in  contradistinction  to  the  Alps,  one  great  tunnel  is  not 


Fio.  4.  —  Part  of  the  old  railway 
through  the  Jura  from  Pontarlier  to 
Lausanne.  The  curious  curves  on  the 
course  of  the  line  are  due  to  the  fact 
that  the  railway  follows  a  river  valley 
for  a  certain  distance,  and  then  takes 
a<lvantage  of  a  clui^f  to  enter  another 
adjacent  valley.  The  section  between 
Pontarlier  and  Vallorbe  has  now  been 
cut  off  bv  the  Mont  d'Or  tunnel. 


Fio.  5.  —  The  old  railway  route 
through  tho  Jura  from  Belfort  to 
Berne.  Note  as  in  Fig.  4  tho  cir- 
cuitous course  of  the  line,  again 
due  to  the  peculiar  structure  of  the 
Jura  mountains.  The  large  loop  to 
the  west  has  now  been  cut  ofif  by  a 
tunnel. 


required.  Owing  to  the  existence  of  a  number  of  parallel 
chains,  with  intervening  valleys,  it  is  impossible  to  tunnel 
through  the  chain  as  a  whole,  and  the  route  is  often  circuitous, 
because  the  Une  must  edge  its  way  along  one  valley  in  order 
to  find  an  easy  access  to  another.  In  the  case  of  this  par- 
ticular route,  the  line  was  found  somewhat  too  circuitous,  with 
too  heavy  gradients  for  the  traffic,  and  a  new  tunnel  has  been 
pierced  to  straighten  it  (Mont  d'Or  tunnel).  In  connection 
with  the  tunnel  a  new  section  of  line  has  been  constructed. 


36        WAYS  TO  THE  SOUTH  :   SECOND  STAGE 

which  takes  off  at  Frasne,  now  the  French  frontier  station, 
avoids  the  easterly  bend  to  PontarUer,  and  runs  direct  to 
Vallorbe,  the  first  Swiss  station. 

Let  us  turn  next  to  the  other  great  intermediate  station  on 
the  way  to  Italy,  that  of  Basel.  Basel  owes  part  of  its  import- 
ance as  a  railway  junction  to  the  fact  that  it  commands  the 
direct  access  from  north-western  Europe  to  the  St.  Gothard 
tunnel.  From  Basel  the  narrow  anterior  end  of  the  Jura  is 
traversed,  and  the  journey  is  then  continued  via  Olten  to 
Lucerne,  and  so  to  the  St.  Gothard  and  Milan.  Another, 
more  circuitous,  route  leads  from  Basel,  again  through  the 
anterior  end  of  the  Jura,  to  Zurich,  then  between  the  main 
Alpine  chain  and  the  hmestone  range  in  front,  via  the  Arlberg 
to  Innsbruck,  thence  southwards  to  Italy  over  the  Brenner. 

Recently,  however,  another  through  route  has  been  con- 
nected up  to  Basel.  It  is  possible  for  passengers  coming  from 
Eastern  Germany  to  travel  direct  to  the  Simplon  by  means  of 
the  new  Lotschberg  tunnel.  This  involves  a  journey  to  Berne, 
from  Berne  to  Thun  and  Kandersteg,  and  then  through  the 
tunnel  to  the  Rhone  valley  at  Brig,  where  the  Simplon  tunnel 
is  entered.  For  travellers  coming  from  the  north-west,  it  is 
quicker  to  avoid  Basel,  and  travel  direct  from  Belfort  through 
the  Jura  to  Berne.  The  route  through  the  Jura  here  is  in- 
direct (cf.  Fig.  5),  the  Hne,  among  other  interesting  features, 
taking  advantage  of  the  cluse  of  the  Doubs  of  which  we  have 
spoken  above  (p.  33).  Like  the  corresponding  traverse  of  the 
Jura  between  Pontarher  and  Vallorbe  this  is  too  indirect  and 
difficult  for  heavy  international  traffic,  and  has  been  corrected 
by  the  construction  of  a  new  tunnel  (from  Moutiers  to  Granges), 

If  we  stop  here  for  a  moment  to  sum  up  the  routes  by  which 
the  Jura  can  be  circumvented  or  traversed,  we  find  that  one 
possibihty  is  to  travel  down  the  Saone-Rhone  valley  to  the 
coast,  and  so  avoid  the  Jura  altogether  ;  this  route  involves 
a  great  number  of  minor  tunnels  through  those  spurs  of  the 
Alps  which  approach  the  coast  closely,  but  no  great  tunnel. 


THE  ALPINE  TUNNELS  37 

The  second  route  leads  to  the  Mont  Cenis  tunnel  :  this  also 
practically  avoids  the  Jura,  and  has  as  its  special  feature  the 
journey  down  the  side  of  the  Lac  du  Bourget  and  so  past 
Aix-les-Bains. 

To  reach  the  Simplon,  on  the  other  hand,  a  direct  traverse 
of  the  Jura  is  necessary,  whether  we  choose  the  older  route, 
by  Frasne  and  Lausanne,  or  the  newer  by  Belfort,  Berne  and 
the  Lotschberg. 

Basel  forms  the  direct  access  to  the  St.  Gothard,  certainly 
the  most  beautiful  of  the  great  routes,  on  account  of  the 
number  of  lakes  seen  en  route.  A  leisurely  traveller,  whose 
aim  is  Venice  or  its  vicinity,  may  use  the  Arlberg  tunnel  to 
reach  Iimsbruck,  and  then  the  Brenner  route,  with  no  great 
tunnel  but  many  minor  ones,  to  pass  the  Central  Chain  of  the 
Alps. 


CHAPTER  IV 

MOUNTAIN,   HILL,    AND   PLAIN 

'  Wo  die  Bachlein  fiiessen, 
Wo  die  Blumen  spriessen, 
Wo  das  Edelweiss 
Bliiht  in  Schnec  und  Eis.' 

Having  now  in  imagination  crossed  or  rounded  the  Jura, 
we  must  stop  to  consider  what  lies  behind.  To  do  this  most 
satisfactorily  we  must  begin  by  looking  at  a  few  general 
points  in  regard  to  the  Alps.  Their  structure  is  extraordin- 
arily complex,  whether  we  consider  the  rocks  of  which  they 
are  composed,  the  nature  of  the  folds  which  appear  in  them, 
or  their  present  topographic  form,  but  here  we  shall  discuss 
only  a  few  of  the  more  general  and  obvious  points.  Even  these, 
however,  cannot  be  made  very  simple,  and  those  unfamiliar 
with  the  region  will  find  the  following  description  difl&cult  to 
understand,  unless  it  is  followed  step  by  step  on  a  map. 

The  southern  side  of  the  Alps  arises  with  great  steepness 
from  the  plain  of  Northern  Italy  ;  on  the  other  hand,  on  the 
north  and  north-western  sides  the  Central  Chain  has  in  front 
of  it  an  area  of  elevated  ground,  or  marginal  range,  which 
diminishes  the  sharpness  of  the  contrast  between  mountain 
and  plain,  and  further  the  plain  here  is  of  greater  mean  ele- 
vation. Let  us  consider  a  few  points  in  regard  to  this  marginal 
range. 

Suppose  we  stand  on  the  cathedral  terrace  at  Avignon  on 
a  clear  day.  To  the  west  and  north-west  we  see  hilly  country, 
in  which  the  nearest  lofty  peak  is  Mt.  Ventoux  (over  6000  feet). 


I'LATK   III 


A  view  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Aniiecy,  showing  the  limestone  clitf.- 
so  characteristic  of  tlie  Sul)al|iine  region. 


THE  SUBALPINE  CHAINS  .39 

Again,  those  who  break  their  journey  southwards  at  Cham- 
bery  to  see  the  Grande  Chartreuse  find  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
monastery  fine  Umestone  peaks  exceeding  six  thousand  five 
hundred  feet  in  height.     These  two  elevated  areas  are  repre- 
sentative of  a  very  extensive  region,  which  extends  from  the 
central  chain  of  the  Alps  to  the  edge  of  the  lower  Rhone  valley, 
and  is  characterised  by  the  occurrence  of  splendid  escarp- 
ments of  hniestone,  all  the  more  conspicuous  owing  to  the  way 
in  which  they  rise  above  forests  and  meadows  of  distinctively 
southern  type  (Plate  111.).    The  broken  chains  of  these  regions 
offer  some  resemblance  to  the  ranges  of  the  Jura,  but  whereas 
the  Jura  are  separated  by  a  depression  from  the  Alps,  the 
Subalpine  chains,  as  the  French  geographers  call  them,  are 
closely  attached  to  the  Alps,  from  which  they  are  cut  off  only 
by  deep  and  narrow  river  valleys,  such  as  that  of  Gresivaudan, 
in  which  the  Isere  flows,  and  the  valley  of  the  Drac  south  of 
Grenoble.     They  form  a  charming  region,  not  greatly  visited 
by  Enghsh  tourists,  save  in  certain  Hmited  areas  ;    blazing 
hot  in  summer  and  then  Hable  to  those  sudden  thunderstorms 
characteristic  of  regions  of  high  rehef ;  with  an  interesting 
flora,  and,  as  contrasted  with  the  Alps,  a  wealth  of  human 
associations.     Those  who  are  fond  of  walking  and  yet  shrink 
from  the  perils  of  the  high  mountains  will  find  here,  save  in 
the  height  of  summer,  a  region  full  of  varied  charm.     (See 
Plates  III.  and  IV.) 

The  Subalpine  chains  are  continued  into  Switzerland,  but 
there  we  find  in  front  of  them  a  zone  of  hills  of  somewhat 
different  structure,  often  but  not  always  calcareous,  which 
runs  from  the  region  of  Chablais  ou  the  south  shore  of  the  Lake 
of  Geneva,  in  front  of  the  Bernese  Oberland  and  its  continuation 
in  the  Glarner  Alps,  to  end  in  the  Siintis,  at  the  eastern  end  of 
the  lake  of  Zurich.  These  are  the  Fore  Alps,  which  are  con- 
tinued beyond  the  Rhine  in  a  belt  of  hillocks  fringing  the 
Calcareous  Alps  of  Bavaria.  The  Fore  Alps  include  many  of 
the  Swiss  hills  ascended  by  the  ordinary  tourist,  as  distin- 


40  MOUNTAIN,  HILL,  AND  PLAIN 

guished  from  the  climber,  and  have  the  great  beauty  of  being 
intersected  with  numerous  lakes,  usually  narrow  in  proportion 
to  their  length,  often  steep-sided,  and  sometimes  of  curiously 
irregular  form.  This  description  applies,  for  instance,  to 
Thun  and  Brienz,  once  a  single  lake,  to  the  lake  of  Lucerne, 
to  the  Walensee.  Less  beautiful,  because  extending  further 
out  into  the  plain  beyond  the  Fore  Alps,  are  the  lakes  of 
Constance  and  Zurich.  The  presence  of  the  lakes  and  of  the 
often  boldly-shaped  mountains,  the  relative  ease  of  access, 
the  mild  chmate,  give  to  the  Fore  Alps  a  number  of  health 
and  pleasure  resorts,  including  some  of  the  most  frequented 
of  the  Alpine  towns,  e.g.  Lucerne. 

We  have  just  stated  that  the  Fore  Alps  include  a  number  of 
hills  constantly  ascended  by  tourists,  whether  on  foot  or  by 
the  aid  of  mountain  railways.  The  great  object  of  these 
ascents  is  to  permit  of  the  enjoyment  of  a  view  which  is  gener- 
ally more  varied  than  that  from  the  summits  of  the  Central 
Chain.  This  is  because,  in  clear  weather,  we  have  not  only 
the  snow-clad  Alps  in  the  background,  the  charming  fore- 
ground of  lake  and  wood,  but  also  a  third  element,  the  plain. 
The  Rigi,  Pilatus,  the  Stanserhorn,  may  serve  as  famihar 
types  of  such  mountains,  though  in  point  of  fact  the  Rigi, 
which  is  not  a  hmestone  mountain,  is  included  in  another 
category  by  geologists  owing  to  its  structure. 

If  we  generalise  the  view  towards  the  plain  as  seen  from 
any  of  these  border  mountains,  we  find  that  from  the  lofty 
Fore  Alps  (Pilatus  is  nearly  7000  feet)  we  look  down  upon  a 
country  of  hills,  traversed  by  numerous  streams,  representing 
the  drainage  of  the  mountains,  and  with  not  a  few  lakes. 
Extending  our  view  in  imagination  to  cover  the  whole  area 
up  to  the  Jura,  we  find  that  the  hills  diminish  and  flatten  out 
till  we  come  to  a  plain  (or  plateau,  for  it  has  a  considerable 
mean  elevation),  which  ends  abruptly  against  the  wall  of  the 
Jura.  The  lowest  part  of  the  plain,  the  whole  of  which  was 
once  flooded  by  the  sea,  lies  nearest  the  Jura,  and  here  we  have 


'r.ATK   IV 


An  old  street  in  Aimecy,  a  town  of  the  Sulialpiiie  region. 


THE  SWISS  PLAIN  OR  PLATEAU  41 

the  long  lake  of  Neuchatel,  with  that  of  Bienne,  and  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  depression  in  the  valley  of  the  Aare.  This 
plain  is  the  Switzerland  of  the  Swiss,  as  the  Fore  Alps  are 
the  Switzerland  of  one  kind  of  tourists,  and  the  high  mountain 
resorts  the  Switzerland  of  another  type.  Here,  except  for 
Basel,  Ue  the  most  important  towns,  extending  in  a  belt  from 
Geneva  to  Schaffhausen,  and  from  Lausanne  to  Zurich.  The 
whole  region  has  been  much  modified  by  the  glaciers  which 
at  one  time  streamed  down  to  the  plateau  from  the  Alps  (see 
Fig.  14),  and  the  pushing  of  the  Aare  to  the  very  foot  of  the 
Jura  is  partly  due  to  the  morainic  debris  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Fore  Alps,  and  partly  to  the  fact  that  the  rivers  as  they  leave 
the  mountains  throw  down  much  transported  matter,  which 
raises  the  ground-level  and  causes  them  to  run  straight  out 
from  the  mountains  till  they  are  blocked,  as  it  were,  by  the 
Jura. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  the  eastern  region.  Beyond  the  Rhine, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  Franco-Swiss  Jura  are  continued  by  the 
Swabian  and  Franconian  Jura,  which  run  north-east,  and  thus 
constantly  increase  the  distance  between  themselves  and  the 
Central  Chain  of  the  Alps.  Thus  beyond  Lake  Constance  and 
the  Rhine  the  narrow  Swiss  plateau  widens  out  into  the  far  more 
extensive  high  plain  of  AVurtembeig  and  Bavaria.  Between 
the  Rhine  and  Danube  there  is  practically  no  true  watershed, 
for  only  morainic  hills  separate  the  two,  and  the  Danube 
leaks  into  the  Rhine.  Once  past  the  point,  however,  where  it 
approaches  this  latter  river,  the  Danube  swings  far  to  the 
north,  following  the  line  of  the  Swabian  Jura,  as  the  Aare 
follows  the  Swiss  Jura.  It  continues  its  northward  course 
till  the  mountains  of  Bohemia  force  it  south.  Finally,  as  we 
approach  Vienna,  the  proximity  of  the  Alps  to  the  ancient 
upland  of  Bohemia  reduces  the  plain  to  a  minimum.  As 
compared  with  the  Swss  plateau  this  Bavarian  plain  is 
featureless.  Even  more  than  the  Swiss  plateau  is  it  encum- 
bered with  morainic  material,  which  not  only  produces  a 


42  MOUNTAIN,  HILL,  AND  PLAIN 

slope  which  has  forced  the  Danube  far  to  the  north,  but  leads 
to  the  formation  of  a  marshy  country,  with  many  lowland 
lakes. 

We  need  only  add  a  word  as  to  the  great  plain  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Alps.  In  geologically  recent  times  this  was  flooded 
by  the  sea,  and  the  areas  which  now  form  the  beautiful  ItaUan 
lakes  were  then  arms  of  the  sea,  comparable  to  the  present 
fiords  of  Norway.  Lake  Garda  shows  very  markedly  in  its 
upper  end  this  fiord-Uke  character.  The  presence  of  the  Apen- 
nines to  the  south  of  the  plain  gives  the  river  of  the  plain,  the 
Po,  two  great  sets  of  tributaries,  as  compared  with  the  Aare 
in  the  northern  plain,  which  has  important  tributaries  only 
from  the  Alpine  side.  Thus  on  the  ItaUan  plain,  in  addition  to 
towns  on  the  Alpine  tributaries  (compare,  for  example,  Novara, 
Verona,  etc.,  with  Berne,  Freiburg,  Zurich  in  Switzerland),  and 
on  the  main  stream,  we  have  other  towns  on  the  Apennine 
streams  (Modena,  Alessandria,  etc.).  The  plain  here  also  is 
lower  and  more  fertile  than  either  the  Swiss  or  Bavarian  plain. 

It  will  appear  from  this  description  that  the  traveller  from 
the  north,  having  overcome  the  obstacle  of  the  Jura,  must 
usually  cross  the  northern  plain,  then  the  Fore  Alps,  and, 
after  a  great  tunnel  has  taken  him  through  the  Central  Chain, 
reaches  the  fertile  Italian  plain.  In  regard  to  the  passage 
through  the  main  chain,  all  that  we  need  say  at  present  is  that 
the  usual  course  adopted  is  to  penetrate  as  far  as  possible  by 
means  of  a  river  valley  into  the  northern  side  of  the  chain, 
then  utiUse  a  tunnel  which  opens  on  some  similar  river  valley 
on  the  other  side  of  the  chain.  This  valley  is  then  followed  to 
the  plain. 

The  question  as  to  which  tunnel  it  is  best  to  use  is  in  the 
general  case  settled  by  the  needs  of  the  individual  traveller. 
If,  however,  no  special  condition  influences  his  choice,  the  St. 
Gothard  should  be  used  either  for  the  outward  or  return 
journey.  The  scenery  on  this  route  is  superior  to  that  of  any 
of  the  others,  for  not  only  is  the  journey  through  the  Central 


SCENERY  ON  THE  GREAT  THROUGH  ROUTES    43 

Alps  highly  attractive,  but  the  marginal  lakes  of  both  sides  of 
the  chain  are  skirted  or  even  crossed  (Lugano),  and  in  the 
course  of  a  short  day's  journey  one  passes  through  a  great 
variety  of  scenery  and  vegetation.  Further,  the  St.  Gothard 
route  has  the  great  advantage  that  the  south  end  of  the  tunnel 
lies  in  Swiss  territory.  Thus  it  is  possible  to  cross  the  main 
pass,  or  one  of  the  adjacent  passes,  e.g.  the  San  Bernardino,  on 
foot  or  by  carriage,  sending  the  luggage  through  the  tunnel  to 
await  the  arrival  at  Lugano.  Theoretically  the  first  entrance 
into  Italy  should  always  be  made  on  foot  or  by  carriage,  for 
only  thus  can  one  appreciate  fully  the  contrasts  between  the 
Transalpine  and  Mediterranean  lands.  Practically  the  custom- 
house difficulty  is  a  very  serious  one,  and  as  geographically, 
though  not  pohtically,  Lugano  is  in  Italy,  the  St.  Gothard 
route  permits  the  pedestrian  to  cross  the  Alps  without  the  risk 
of  losing  his  property. 

The  Simplon  route,  via  Lausanne,  includes  a  very  interesting 
traverse  of  the  Jura  (Fig.  4),  and  towards  the  end,  as  the  train 
swings  and  jolts  on  its  way  down  to  Lake  Geneva,  a  very 
instructive  glimpse  of  Lake  Neuchatel  and  the  Swiss  plain. 
Beyond  Lausanne  the  journey  along  the  lake  and  past  the 
Rhone  delta  is  both  beautiful  and  interesting,  but  that  up 
the  Rhone  valley  is  a  disappointment.  The  valley  is  so  narrow 
and  so  steep-sided  that  the  view  is  practically  limited  to  the 
tumbhng  waterfalls,  and  yet  one  has  a  feeUng  that  if  the 
corridor  was  wider,  or  the  human  body  more  pUant,  it  would 
be  possible  to  arrange  an  attitude  in  which  something  could 
be  seen  of  the  great  mountains.  At  the  other  side  the  glimpse 
of  Lake  Maggiore  is  beautiful  but  all  too  brief. 

On  the  Mont  Cenis  route  the  most  attractive  stretch  is  that 
which  leads  past  the  Lac  du  Bourget ;  further  on  the  interest 
is  not  very  great,  though  in  the  journey  from  Turin  to  Modane, 
on  the  return  route,  the  vision  of  Monte  Viso  and  the  Gran 
Paradiso,  standing  Hke  two  great  sentinels  guarding  the  way, 
is  impressive.     The  chestnut  woods,  also,  on  both  sides  of  the 


44  MOUNTAIN,  HILL,  AND  PLAIN 

chain  here,  are  interesting,  for  the  chestnut  has  meant  much 
to  the  inhabitants  of  southern  Europe. 

The  two  other  routes  to  which  we  have  alluded,  the  Riviera 
one  and  the  Arlberg-Brenner,  are  both  too  circuitous  to  be 
used  except  under  special  circumstances.  The  Riviera  route 
permits  the  traveller  to  stop  to  visit  the  curious  old  towns  of 
Provence,  which  are  too  httle  known  to  Enghsh  travellers. 
The  view  from  the  cathedral  terrace  at  Avignon  in  spring,  when 
the  plain  is  flushed  pink  with  peach  and  almond  blossom,  and 
the  melting  snow  has  swollen  the  great  turbid  river,  is  one  of 
the  most  striking  in  Western  Europe. 

The  Brenner  has  much  historical  importance  and  the 
glimpses  of  the  Dolomites  as  one  descends  to  Botzen  are 
imposing,  but  on  the  whole  the  scenery  is  less  interesting  than 
further  west,  and  the  fact  that  the  Adige  has  deserted  its  old 
course  through  Lake  Garda,  and  that  the  railway  follows  the 
river,  makes  it  necessary  to  abandon  the  through  route  if  that 
lake  is  to  be  visited.  Parenthetically  we  may  remark  that  the 
traveller  who  does  this,  and  yet  has  not  much  time  to  spare,  will 
find  that  the  task  of  adjusting  the  times  of  the  boats  and  of 
the  trains  on  the  small  railways  which  serve  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  lake,  to  the  times  of  the  trains  on  the  through 
route,  is  somewhat  complicated. 

The  number  of  '  ways  to  the  south  '  just  described  speaks  to 
many  travellers ;  why  is  it  that  so  many  are  drawn  southwards 
in  this  fashion  ?  One  reason  is  that  to  the  tourist  from  the 
north  the  Mediterranean  region  offers  the  supreme  advantage 
of  warmth  and  sunshine  at  a  period  when  both  are  lacking 
in  his  home.  But  as  the  region  is  poor  as  compared  with  the 
industrial  regions  of  the  mid-European  plain,  and  as  parts 
of  it  are  barren,  or  malarious,  or  liable  to  strong  wind,  the 
winter  traffic  is  concentrated  on  a  small  number  of  regions 
where  the  migrants  from  the  north  can  find  '  comfort '  ap- 
proximating to  that  to  which  they  are  accustomed  at  home. 
Thus  Russians,  Austrians,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  eastern 


SOUTHWARD  BOUND  TRAVELLERS  45 

part  of  Germany  tend  to  stream,  in  winter  and  spring,  over  the 
Brenner  Pass,  past  Verona  and  Bologna  to  Naples  and  its 
surroundings,  or  onward  to  Sicily.  The  inhabitants  of  Western 
Germany  and  the  neighbouring  lands  utihse  largely  the  St. 
Gothard  in  order  to  concentrate  on  the  ItaUan  Riviera.  The 
French  and  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain  frequent  chiefly 
the  French  Riviera.  If  one  bears  in  mind  facts  of  this  kind, 
the  train  service,  which  to  many  travellers  is  a  complete 
mystery,  will  be  found  easier  to  understand.  Through  routes 
are,  as  it  were,  worn  smooth  by  the  continual  passage  of 
steady  traffic,  and  passengers  travelhng  across  the  stream  are 
always  liable  to  find  difficulties,  more  especially  in  a  country 
hke  Italy  where  the  traffic  is  largely  periodic,  and  a  poor  and 
harassed  administration  is  not  able  to  cope  fully  with  its 
•seasonal  variations.  For  example,  most  travellers  who  have 
changed  trains  at  Bologna  are  apt  to  assume  that  the  con- 
fusion there  has  been  arranged  by  the  powers  of  evil  for  their 
special  discomfort.  In  point  of  fact  it  is  due  to  the  conver- 
gence here  of  many  lines  of  traffic,  leading  to  specially  favoured 
parts  of  the  Mediterranean  area. 

Finally,  in  the  Mediterranean  region,  and  especially  in  Italy, 
the  great  variety  of  surface,  due  to  the  frequent  approach  of 
the  folded  mountains  to  the  seaboard,  with  its  distinctively 
Mediterranean  characters,  and  the  occurrence  of  small  areas 
of  notable  fertihty,  more  or  less  enclosed  by  mountains,  led 
to  the  development  of  many  city  states,  whose  surplus  wealth 
was  stored  in  the  form  of  artistic  treasures.  These  works  of 
art,  no  less  than  the  rehcs  of  the  classical  period,  bring  an 
army  of  travellers  far  outnumbering  those  who  only  seek  a 
favourable  chmate  during  the  northern  winter.  Parts  of  the 
Mediterranean  area  are  thus  visited  by  very  large  numbers  of 
tourists. 

References.  Further  details  in  regard  to  the  points  dealt  with  in 
the  preceding  three  chapters  must  for  the  most  part  be  sought  in  the 
various  textbooks  of  physical  geography.     The  author's  Introduction 


46  MOUNTAIN,  HILL,  AND  PLAIN 

to  Physical  Geography  gives  a  summary  account  of  the  subject,  with 
some  further  references.  Three  other  books  may  also  be  noted : — 
James  Geikie's  Mountains,  their  Origin,  Growth  and  Decay ;  Lyde,  The 
Continent  of  Europe  ;  and  Cole,  The  Growth  oj  Europe  (Home  University 
Library).  The  first  contains  an  admirably  clear  summary  of  recent 
work  upon  the  Alps. 

As  regards  maps  and  atlases,  it  may  be  noted  that  some  of  the 
foreign  school  atlases  give  clearer  pictures  of  the  surface  than  are  to 
be  obtained  in  most  of  our  own  atlases.  The  two  following, 
both  inexpensive,  may  be  mentioned  as  specially  interesting : — 
Atlas  f.  Schweizerische  Mittelschulen,  with  some  reproductions  of 
portions  of  the  Swiss  topographical  map,  and  Lehmann  u.  Scobel's 
A  tla^  f.  hohere  Lehranstalten. 

Separate  maps  from  most  of  the  larger  library  atlases  can  be  obtained, 
and  are  useful  for  the  different  countries  of  Europe,  but  many  of  these 
err  in  being  too  much  loaded  with  names  and  too  closely  printed  for 
easy  reading  in  a  railway  train.  The  combination  of  a  railway  map, 
taken  from  a  time-table,  and  a  clear  and  simple  physical  map  taken 
from  a  school  atlas  is  the  most  satisfactory  for  use  during  journeys.  As 
school  atlases  have  now  generally  the  separate  maps  mounted  on 
guards,  it  is  easy  to  remove  any  particular  plate  and  re-insert  it  later, 
or  separate  physical  maps  can  be  bought  cheaply  at  most  educational 
booksellers.  Some  of  the  recently  pubUshed  war  maps  of  Central 
Europe  are  good  and  clear,  and  show  the  physical  features  well.  Most 
guide-books,  e.g.  Baedeker  and  Murray,  also  contain  useful  maps.  The 
serious  traveller,  it  may  be  noted  incidentally,  never  enters  a  railway 
train  without  a  map. 

For  a  detailed  study  of  any  locality  maps  on  scales  more  or  less 
equivalent  to  those  of  our  Ordnance  Survey  sheets  are  essential. 
Generally  these  can  be  purchased  more  cheaply  in  the  country  con- 
cerned than  in  London,  but  it  is  well  to  avoid  trying  to  buy  them 
at  a  frontier  town.  Such  maps  are  never  cheap,  but  neat-fingered 
persons  can  economise  by  buying  the  sheets  unmounted,  and  then 
cutting  them  up  and  mounting  them  on  linen  themselves.  Those 
who  are  not  accustomed  to  working  with  large  scale  maps  will  find 
the  Swiss  1  :  50,000  topographical  map  an  admirable  one  to  practise 
on,  especially  if  used  on  the  spot.  There  are  few  more  fascinating 
occupations  than  that  of  working  out  on  this  map  a  route  which  seems 
'  possible,'  and  then  proceeding  to  test  the  possibiUty  in  the  field. 

In   most  frequented   regions,   especially   perhaps    in   France  and 


BOOKS  AND  MAPS  47 

Switzerland,  admirably  clear  but  rough  maps  arc  published  by  local 
Clubs,  Syndicats  d'Initiativc,  etc,  and  are  to  be  obtained  gratis  or 
for  a  trifle  at  tourist  offices  and  elsewhere.  These  are  often  exceed- 
ingly useful  in  giving  a  first  notion  of  the  geography  of  a  locality,  which 
can  be  elaborated  later  by  the  help  of  more  costly  maps.  As  regards 
French  topographical  maps,  one  should  notice  that  there  are  two 
series  of  these,  the  Army  map,  with  contours,  and  the  Home  Oflfice 
(Ministre  de  I'lnt^ricur)  without. 


CHAPTER  V 

KAIN   AND    SUNSHINE 

'  Who  covereth  the  heaven  with  clouds,  who  prepareth  rain  for  the 
earth,  who  maketh  grass  to  grow  upon  the  mountains.' 

It  is  impossible  to  travel  in  Central  Europe  with  much  profit 
without  a  general  knowledge  of  the  chief  types  of  climate 
found  in  the  continent,  and  yet,  for  very  many  people, 
erroneous  ideas  implanted  in  school  days  make  an  apprecia- 
tion of  the  facts  difficult.  There  is  no  notion  in  regard  to 
chmate  so  deeply  rooted  as  the  behef  that  in  any  longitude, 
and  at  any  season  of  the  year,  to  travel  southward  is  to  travel 
into  warmer  regions.  The  idea  that  this  is  a  fundamental 
truth  is  so  widespread,  that  given  that  of  two  places,  A  and  B, 
the  one.  B,  lies  further  south,  the  vast  majority  of  '  well- 
informed  '  people  will  say  at  once  that  of  course  B  is  always 
warmer  than  A.  To  reply,  in  current  geographical  slang,  that 
latitude  is  only  one  of  the  factors  which  influence  chmate,  is 
perhaps  not  to  shed  a  great  deal  of  Ught  upon  the  subject, 
and  we  may  conveniently  here  give  a  Uttle  space  to  the  facts 
as  regards  the  distribution  of  temperature  in  Europe  in  winter 
and  summer  respectively. 

The  fijst  point  is  that,  apart  from  the  Mediterranean  belt, 
in  winter  the  temperature  in  the  low  grounds  depends  chiefly 
upon  distance  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
cold  increases  as  we  travel  east.  Vienna,  which  is  south  of 
London,  but  also  far  to  the  east,  is  very  much  colder  in  winter 
than  is  London.     Bergen,  in  the  latitude  of  the  Shetlands,  is 

48 


SUMMER  AND  WINTER  ISOTHERMS  10 

not  80  cold  in  winter  as  is  Belgrade,  in  the  latitude  of  Bordeaux. 
In  winter,  therefore,  save  in  the  case  of  regions  of  special 
cUmate,  hke  the  Riviera,  to  travel  south  is  not  necessarily  to 
escape  cold  ;  if  we  at  the  same  time  travel  eastwards  it  is  to 
find  it.  In  more  technical  language,  in  winter,  except  round 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  lines  of  equal  temperaturi.  (isotherms) 
run  north  and  south,  and  not,  as  is  so  generally  supposed,  east 
and  west.  Taking  our  previous  example,  if  B  is  east  of  A, 
in  winter  it  will  be  almost  certainly  colder,  even  if  it  is  in  a 
lower  latitude. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  summer  conditions.  At  this  season 
the  Unes  tend  to  run,  over  land  surfaces,  from  south-west 
to  north-east.  In  other  words,  though,  broadly  speaking, 
more  southerly  places  are  now  warmer  than  more  northerly 
ones,  yet  distance  from  the  ocean  increases  the  summer  heat. 
Thus  Moscow,  in  the  latitude  of  Edinburgh,  is  far  colder  than 
that  place  in  winter,  but  in  summer  it  is  considerably  hotter 
than  London.  Vienna,  which  was  colder  than  London  in 
winter,  is  very  noticeably  hotter  in  summer. 

If  we  summarise  the  summer  and  winter  conditions  in  Europe, 
we  may  say  that  free  access  to  breezes  from  the  ocean  cools 
the  summer  and  moderates  the  winter  ;  remoteness  from  the 
Atlantic  increases  the  heat  of  summer  and  the  cold  of  winter. 
The  distribution  of  many  important  plants,  and  therefore  of 
types  of  civiUsation,  is  greatly  influenced  by  these  facts. 
Further,  if  we  think  of  the  matter  meantime  as  a  question  of 
exposure  to  Atlantic  influences,  we  shall  be  prepared  to  find 
that  a  mountain  barrier  between  a  place  and  the  Atlantic 
tends  to  deprive  it  of  the  moderating  efiect.  Thus  the  part 
of  eastern  England  between  the  Wash  and  the  Thames  has  a 
relatively  extreme  cUmate,  because  it  is  sheltered  from  the 
Atlantic  by  Ireland  and  the  Welsh  Mountains ;  it  is  near  enough 
to  the  continent  to  be  infiuenced  by  continental  conditions. 
The  south  of  Sweden  has  a  more  extreme  chuiate  than  the 
south  of  Norway,  that  is,  hotter  siuumers  and  cooler  winters, 

D 


50  EAIN  AND  SUNSHINE 

because  the  Scandinavian  mountains  intervene  between  it 
and  the  sea.  On  the  other  hand,  where  the  mountain  barrier 
is  absent,  oceanic  influences  may  penetrate  far  inland. 

The  second  point  in  regard  to  which  the  majority  of  persons 
have  not  clear  notions  is  in  connection  with  the  prevaihng 
winds.  Europe  generally,  again  apart  from  the  Mediterranean 
region,  is  in  a  zone  of  prevaihng  westerly  winds.  This  does 
not  mean,  however,  that  the  wind  is  necessarily  always 
westerly  at  the  surface.  Suppose  we  stand  on  a  bridge  above 
a  swift  river,  for  instance,  the  Isar  at  Munich  in  August  when 
the  stream  is  swollen  with  melting  ice.  To  the  onlooker  from 
the  bridge  it  is  perfectly  obvious  that  the  river  is  flowing  in 
one  definite  direction,  which,  if  he  or  she  be  of  exact  mind, 
can  be  ascertained  to  be  about  NNE.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
one  were  a  chip  floating  in  the  stream,  it  would  be  as  obvious 
that  the  direction  changes  constantly,  as  one  whirls  round 
in  the  tumultuous  eddies.  We,  at  the  surface  of  the  ground, 
are  in  the  position  of  the  chip  as  regards  the  great  stream  of 
circulating  air.  The  general  direction  of  the  air  current  is 
westwards,  but  on  the  main  stream  countless  swirls  (cyclones) 
form,  and  the  circulation  in  connection  with  these  may,  for 
long  periods,  obscure  to  us  the  prevaihng  drift. 

Into  the  many  difficult  points  connected  with  these  swirls 
we  need  not  go  here,  except  to  indicate  that  they  are  ocean- 
born,  and,  being  caught  in  the  great  air-stream,  as  it  were, 
approach  the  shores  of  Great  Britain  from  the  west,  along 
certain  more  or  less  definite  fines.  Their  continued  existence 
depends  upon  the  moving  centre  of  low  pressure  contained  in 
the  swirl  being  constantly  fed  by  ascending  moist  air.  This  is 
easy  during  their  passage  across  the  ocean,  but  the  possibifity 
disappears  when  they  travel  over  land.  Thus  in  the  southern 
hemisphere,  where  there  is  but  httle  land  in  what  are  called 
temperate  latitudes,  the  swirls  continue  to  travel  for  great 
distances.  But  in  the  northern  hemisphere,  those  which 
cross  the  Atlantic  have  only  a  short  life,  for  as  they  approach 


WINDS  AND  RAIN  51 

the  shores  of  Europe,  and  especially  those  outposts  of  Europe 
formed  by  the  British  Islands,  they  tend  to  diminish  in  in- 
tensity, and  at  best  can  travel  only  a  hmited  distance  into  the 
continental  area. 

Their  fate  in  detail  differs  a  little  in  summer  and  winter. 
In  winter  a  great  mass  of  cold,  heavy  air  lies  over  the  continent 
of  Europe,  and  this  air  repels  the  cyclones,  fends  them  ofF, 
as  it  is  sometimes  stated,  so  that  they  tend  to  traverse  the 
British  Islands,  cross  the  North  Sea,  and  die  away  in  the 
Scandinavian  peninsula.  One  of  the  results  of  this,  it  may 
be  noted  incidentally,  is  that  Norway  is  not  a  very  good 
place  for  '  winter  sports,'  on  account  of  the  prevalence  of 
wind  there,  as  compared  with  the  usual  calm  at  Alpine 
resorts.  For  reasons  with  which  again  we  need  not  trouble 
here,  cyclones  bring  with  them  much  rain,  and  thus  we  have, 
especially  in  Ireland  and  in  the  western  parts  of  Great  Britain 
and  Scandinavia,  in  the  western  promontory  of  France,  and 
the  similar  projection  of  Spain,  heavy  winter  rain,  and  mild 
winters  because  of  the  indraught  of  warm  air  from  the 
Atlantic,  and  because  of  the  effect  of  the  rainfall  itself,  which, 
as  we  say,  '  liberates  latent  heat  '—not  a  very  satisfactory 
form  of  expression.  The  rest  of  Europe,  again  except  for 
the  Mediterranean  area,  receives  relatively  Uttle  rain  in 
\vinter,  for  the  cyclones  do  not  penetrate  far  inland,  and,  in 
any  case,  have  lost  most  of  their  moisture  on  the  coastal  rim. 
The  result  is  that  the  interior  of  Europe  tends  to  have  cold, 
calm  winters,  with  but  Httlc  rain,  while  the  coastal  regions 
tend  to  have  mild,  windy  and  wet  winters. 

In  summer  the  cyclones  are  weaker,  but  as  no  protective 
area  of  heavy  air  fends  them  ofE  the  continent,  they  penetrate 
further  inland,  and  bring  rain  not  only  to  the  coastal  region 
but  also  to  some  extent  to  the  interior.  Most  of  the  rain 
of  the  interior,  however,  is  due  to  the  heating  up  of  the 
surface,  with  resultant  ascent  of  heated  air  and  thunderstorms 
giving  torrential  rains  of  short  duration.     The  total  amount 


52  RAIN  AND  SUNSHINE 

of  rain  decreases  as  we  pass  eastwards,  the  decrease  in  eastern 
Russia  suggesting  the  approach  of  the  deserts  of  Asia. 

We  have  thus  to  distinguish  so  far  between  two  types  of 
climate  : — the  so-called  oceanic  type,  with  mild,  windy  and 
wet  winters,  and  cool,  damp  summers,  and  the  continental 
type  with  cold,  dry,  calm  winters,  and  hot  summers,  often 
with  heavy  thunderstorms  in  the  earUer  part  and  dryness, 
increasing  to  the  east,  in  the  latter  part. 

The  third  main  type  of  chmate  within  the  European  area 
is  that  of  the  Mediterranean  area.  This  is  a  region  of  transi- 
tions. In  summer  it  hes  outside  the  belt  of  prevailing 
westerhes,  and  just  within  the  trade-wind  area.  Thus  it 
is  traversed  by  warm,  dry  easterly  winds,  blowing  from  the 
great  continental  mass  of  Eurasia.  In  winter,  as  the  chmatic 
zones  shift  south  with  the  sun,  it  comes  into  the  westerly 
wind  belt,  and  receives  rain,  more  or  less  abundant,  from 
winter  cyclones  which  sweep  along  the  Mediterranean  Sea 
from  the  Atlantic.  The  presence  of  the  sea  permits  the 
cyclones  to  travel  a  long  distance  east,  and  thus  gives  the 
belt  of  Mediterranean  climate  a  great  extension  eastward, 
but  even  so,  regions  sheltered  by  high  land  from  rain-bearing 
winds,  e.g.  eastern  Spain,  and  regions  remote  from  the  great 
ocean,  e.g.  the  extreme  east,  suffer  from  lack  of  moisture. 
Thus,  as  contrasted  with  regions  of  oceanic  climate  which 
have  rain  at  all  seasons,  and  with  those  of  continental  climate 
which  have  chiefly  summer  rain,  Mediterranean  regions  have 
winter  rain.  They  resemble  regions  of  oceanic  climate  in 
their  small  range  of  temperature,  i.e.  the  difference  between 
summer  and  winter  is  not  great,  but  in  the  Mediterranean 
region  the.  temperature  throughout  the  year  is  of  course 
higher. 

In  addition  to  these  main  types  of  climate,  a  number  of 
minor  varieties  exist,  often  of  great  importance  to  the  seeker 
after  health  or  the  tourist.  Thus  the  heat  and  drought 
of  the  continental  summer  is  greatly  modified  by  elevation 


TYPES  OF  CLIMATE  63 

and  the  proximity  of  mountains,  and  the  mountain  climate, 
ahke  in  summer  and  winter,  is  of  great  interest. 

Again,  the  fact  that  mountains  so  often  approach  the 
Mediterranean  seaboard  nearly  (cf.  p.  18),  means  local  dis- 
turbances of  the  air  circulation,  and  local  modifications  of 
climate.  Sometimes  the  presence  of  the  mountains  gives 
rise  to  special  winds,  hke  the  biting  mistral  which  makes 
the  late  winter  unpleasant  in  Provence,  or  the  Bora  which, 
even  in  summer,  blows  with  great  violence  on  the  Dalmatian 
coast ;  at  other  times,  as  in  the  case  of  the  French  Riviera, 
the  mountains  make  the  winter  cUmate  particularly  mild 
and  give  shelter  from  cold  winds. 

As  suggested  above,  part  of  that  infinite  variety  of  Europe 
to  which  we  have  already  called  attention  is  due  to  the 
number  of  types  of  chmate  found  within  a  small  area.  The 
differences  in  temperature  and  in  the  amount  and  season  of 
rainfall  affect  the  natural  vegetation,  and  the  kinds  of  plants 
which  can  be  most  readily  cultivated.  Cultivated  plants 
have  a  great  influence  on  human  life,  and  the  variety  of  types 
of  human  societies  to  be  found  within  the  area  are  to  be 
associated  with  the  variety  of  chmates,  while  the  fact  that 
the  whole  area  is  small  has  facihtated  exchange,  whether  of 
material  objects  or  of  ideas. 

What  effect  have  the  different  types  of  chmate  upon  the 
tourist  as  tourist  ?  They  naturally  exercise  considerable 
influence  on  his  movements  at  different  seasons.  In  winter 
a  traveller  who  wants  warmth  and  sunshine  mthin  easy 
reach  must  almost  necessarily  seek  the  shores  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, for  though  he  may  find  warmth,  say,  on  the  Atlantic 
coasts  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  or  that  of  the  southern  part  of 
France,  he  must  be  prepared  there  for  a  good  deal  of  rain 
and  some  wind,  and  the  ty'pe  of  climate  is  much  that  which 
he  has  left  at  home. 

In  spring,  however,  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean,  and 
more  especially  the  Rivieras  of   France  and  Italy,  are  dis- 


51  RAIN  AND  SUNSHINE 

appointing.  There  is  here  a  very  distinct  '  lag '  in  the  rise 
of  temperature,  so  that  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  that  at 
one  period  of  spring  the  deciduous  trees  are  further  advanced 
in  Provence  than  on  the  Riviera.  The  pahns  and  similar 
plants  which  have  *  served  the  senses  '  of  the  winter  visitors 
are  more  or  less  tattered  and  shabby,  and  new  growths  are 
slow  to  replace  the  old.  For  the  glories  of  the  spring  one 
wants  to  be  somewhat  further  north,  e.g.  on  the  Itahan  lakes, 
while,  a  Uttle  later,  nothing  equals  its  sudden  splendours 
in  the  continental  type  of  chmate,  where  the  rapid  rise  of 
temperature  is  followed  by  a  correspondingly  rapid  unfold- 
ing of  leaves  and  flowers. 

When  summer  has  fully  come  the  areas  of  oceanic  climate 
are  preferable  to  those  of  the  continental  type,  for  not  only 
is  the  air  cooler,  but  in  the  latter  regions  rain  diminishes, 
except  in  special  localities,  as  the  summer  wears  on,  and  the 
foUage  soon  becomes  burnt  and  dusty.  At  this  season  the 
Mediterranean  area  is  even  less  attractive,  for  here  there  may 
be  no  rain  to  refresh  the  foliage,  the  dust  is  all-pervading, 
and  the  whole  region  falls  more  or  less  under  a  regime  of 
semi-desert  conditions.  It  is  at  this  season  that  the  glory 
of  the  English  woods  and  fields  strikes  the  returning  traveller 
80  specially. 

Generally,  in  the  height  of  summer  the  low  grounds  of  the 
interior  of  the  continent  are  more  or  less  intolerably  hot, 
and  the  inhabitants  escape  when  they  can  to  the  sea,  the 
mountains,  or  to  regions  of  oceanic  climate.  As  the  heat  of 
summer  abates,  these  lowlands  become  possible  and  pleasant, 
and  when  the  chill  of  coming  winter  is  making  itself  felt  there, 
one  may  find  a  modified  summer  in  the  south,  where  the  first 
rains  have  refreshed  the  land,  and  the  extraordinarily  long 
autumn  of  Italy,  with  its  wonderful  harvest  of  fruit,  can  be 
enjoyed  to  the  full.  As  the  winter  comes  we  may  note  that 
those  who  want  sunshine  but  are  indifferent  to  night  cold,  will 
find  in  some  of  the  mountain  resorts  high  sun  temperatures,. 


LOCAL  CLIMATES  55 

clear  skies  and  exhilarating  air,  with  the  disadvantage  that  the 
temperature  falls  with  great  rapidity  as  the  sun  goes  down. 
Finally,  we  must  note  that  though  an  appreciation  of  the 
fact  that  the  above  main  types  of  cUmate  exist  in  Europe  is 
of  great  assistance  in  obtaining  a  grasp  of  its  geography,  yet 
it  is  impossible  to  draw  hard  and  fast  Unes  between  the 
different  climatic  zones,  and  it  is  not  always  prudent  to  make 
deductions  about  the  probable  climate  of  a  place,  merely 
from    its    geographical    position.     Local    conditions    often 
count  for  a  great  deal.    Thus,  in  the  first  place,  we  find  that  the 
Mediterranean  chmate  has  often  but  a  short  extension  inland, 
so  that,  for  example,  the  plain  of  North  Italy  has  a  somewhat 
extreme  cUmate,  though  it  seems  to  be  so  near  the  Inland 
Sea.     Milan  is  much  colder  than  London  in  winter  and  has 
a  much  heavier  rainfall,  but  its  summers  are  hotter.     Thus 
as  regards  temperature  it  shows  continental  characters,  but 
its  heavy  rainfall,  coming  chiefly  in  spring  and  autumn,  is 
a  special  character,  due  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Alps.     As 
compared  with  the  towns  actually  on  the  plain,  hke  Milan, 
those  lodged  in  the  southward-facing  valleys  of   the  Alps  to 
the  north,  especially  on  the  shores  of  the  lakes,  are  much 
milder.     Even  here,  however,  the  mildness  is  only  relative. 
Riva,  on  Lake  Garda,  is  in  December  and  January  colder 
than   London,    much   colder   than   the   Scilly   Islands.     By 
February,  however,  it  has  become  warmer  than  London, 
and  the  month  of  May  is  as  hot  as  a  London  August.     But 
these  statements,  be  it  remembered,  are  based  on  average 
figures,  and  the  actual  conditions  at  any  definite  time  may 
vary  considerably  from  the  mean. 

As  we  have  just  mentioned  the  Scilly  Islands,  it  may  be 
well  to  illustrate  some  of  the  points  in  regard  to  chmate  which 
we  have  been  discussing  by  a  comparison  between  the  so- 
called  Riviera  of  Cornwall  and  that  of  France,  a  comparison 
energetic  railway  companies  are  fond  of  making.  If  we  take 
the  winter  temperature  conditions  in  the  Scilly  Islands  as 


56  RAIN  AND  SUNSHINE 

the  most  favourable  that  the  British  area  has  to  offer,  and  at 
the  same  time  as  representing  generally  the  conditions  which 
prevail  in  the  south-west  of  England,  we  find  that  while  the 
mean  temperature  during  December  and  February  is  similar 
to  that  of  Mentone,  the  temperature  of  January  is  distinctly 
higher  in  the  Scilly  Islands.  The  mildness  of  the  winter 
temperatures  is  indicated  not  only  by  the  thermometer,  but 
by  the  fact  that  many  dehcate  plants  will  Uve  without  any 
winter  protection.  As  the  year  wears  on,  however,  while 
the  temperature  at  Mentone  rises  with  some  rapidity,  that 
in  the  Scilly  Islands  remains  stationary  for  a  long  time,  and 
then  rises,  with  extreme  slowness  at  first,  to  a  maximum  far 
below  that  of  Mentone,  below  that  of  London  even.  The 
autumn  fall  is  again  deliberate,  but  Mentone  remains  warmer 
till  December.  Thus  we  have  the  anomaly  that  while  the 
Scilly  Islands  can  produce  '  sub-tropical '  vegetation,  they 
will  not  ripen  the  more  dehcate  temperate  fruits. 

In  a  somewhat  less  marked  form  these  conditions  prevail 
all  along  the  south-west  coast,  and  suggest  that,  so  far  as 
temperature  is  concerned,  the  Enghsh  '  Riviera '  has  the 
advantage  in  the  winter  months.  When  we  look  at  rainfall 
it  seems  as  if  this  impression  is  confirmed,  for  parts  of  the 
south  coast  of  England  have  a  lower  rainfall  than  parts  of 
the  Riviera.  But  the  superiority  of  the  French  or  Italian 
Riviera  as  a  winter  station,  if  not  apparent  when  average 
figures  are  considered,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  two  regions 
belong  to  different  climatic  zones.  In  the  south  of  England 
the  chmate  is  oceanic,  that  is,  the  warmth  is  due  to  mild, 
moist  air  from  the  Atlantic,  and  the  total  rainfall  to  the  fact 
that  it  rains  often,  though  not  very  heavily.  Did  the  damp 
winds  fail  to  blow  from  the  Atlantic  the  temperature  would 
be  lower,  and  thus  we  have  the  paradox  that  the  finer  it  is 
the  colder  it  is.  A  spell  of  clear  bright  weather  often  means 
cold  weather,  a  high  mean  temperature  cloudy  skies  and 
frequent  rain. 


THE  CONTINENTAL  CLIMATE  57 

On  the  other  hand,  the  high  temperatures  on  the  Riviera 
are  due  to  full  exposure  to  the  sun,  in  a  region  well-sheltered 
from  cold  winds  by  the  mountain  backing.  Rain  comes  in 
heavy  downpours,  clears  the  air  and  is  of  considerable  sanitary 
importance,  and  as  the  storm  which  brought  it  passes  over 
the  sun  reappears.  Further  to  the  west  a  similar  bright 
type  of  weather  appears,  but  the  cold  blasts  from  the  north, 
whether  or  not  they  rise  to  the  violence  which  entitles  them 
to  the  name  of  mistral,  lower  the  mean  temperature  and 
render  the  region  unpleasant  for  invahds. 

The  subject  might  be  elaborated  further  in  a  number  of 
other  examples.  We  shall  confine  ourselves  to  two  others, 
forming  an  interesting  contrast.  Botzen,  on  the  Brenner 
route,  is  well  known  to  travellers  as  the  centre  of  a  great 
fruit-growing  district,  just  as  the  Scilly  Islands  are  a  region 
of  spring  flowers.  During  the  months  of  November,  Decem- 
ber, January  and  February  Botzen  is  considerably  colder 
than  London,  during  December  and  January  much  colder. 
Thereafter,  however,  the  temperature  takes  a  sudden  upward 
leap,  May  is  nearly  as  hot  as  a  London  July  ;  September,  the 
great  fruit-ripening  month,  is  much  hotter  than  a  London  July. 
Put  in  another  way,  Botzen  has  seven  months  with  a  tempera- 
ture of  above  50°  F.,  London  has  five.  But  while  London 
has  no  month  with  a  mean  temperature  of  less  than  38°  F., 
Botzen  has  three  such  months.  Thus  we  may  say  that 
Botzen  shows  the  continental  cUmate  in  its  ordinary  form, 
hot  summer,  cold  winter,  sudden  rise  in  temperature  in 
spring,  very  sudden  drop  at  the  end  of  the  long  autumn. 
The  fruit-growing  depends  upon  the  hot  sunny  summer 
and  warm  autumn,  with  the  absence  of  very  severe  winter 
temperatures,  just  as  the  spring  flowers  of  the  Scilly  Islands 
depend  upon  the  very  mild  winters. 

Let  us  compare  Munich,  which  lies  almost  directly  north, 
with  Botzen.  Here  the  winter  is  far  colder,  for  no  less  than 
five  months  have  a  mean  temperature  which  fails  to  rise  to 


58  RAIN  AND  SUNSHINE 

38°  F.,  and  three  months  have  temperatures  considerably 
below  freezing.  But  when  we  look  at  the  summer,  we 
find  that  only  in  the  hottest  month,  July,  is  the  mean 
temperature  slightly  higher  than  at  London.  At  all  other 
seasons  it  is  lower,  in  spite  of  the  southerly  position  in  relation 
to  London.  Here  then  we  have  the  typical  continental 
winter,  but  not  the  typical  continental  summer,  and  the 
difference  in  the  temperature  between  Munich  and  Botzen 
throughout  the  year  is  far  greater  than  the  mere  difierence 
of  latitude  warrants.  In  this  case  we  have  to  note  that  while 
Botzen  Ues  to  the  south  of  the  Alps,  and  thus  is  at  once 
exposed  to  the  southern  sun  and  sheltered  from  the  north 
winds,  Munich  Hes  on  the  northern  slope,  with  Uttle  pro- 
tection from  cold  winds,  and  a  less  free  exposure  to  the  sun 
— in  other  words,  the  local  conditions  affect  the  climate 
greatly. 

Rbferences.  The  great  storehouse  of  facts  in  regard  to  climate, 
European  and  other,  is  Hann's  Handhuch  der  Klimatologie,  only  a  part 
of  which  has  been  translated.  Lyde's  book,  mentioned  at  the  end  of 
the  last  chapter  [The  Continent  of  Europe),  gives  a  very  full  treatment 
of  the  subject  for  that  continent,  and  several  of  the  books  mentioned 
at  the  end  of  Chaps,  vm.  and  ix.  discuss  the  cUmates  of  the  regions 
with  wliich  they  are  specially  concerned. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   PLANT   AND   ITS   HOME:    A  STUDY    OF   FITNESS 

*  Follow  to  the  deep  wood's  weeds, 
Follow  to  the  wild-briar  dingle,' 

The  majority  of  travellers  must  always  be  those  who  seek 
in  their  travels  rest  and  refreshment  from  their  everyday 
work  and  surroundings,  and  as  we  are  now  predominantly 
a  nation  of  town-dwellers,  the  tendency  is  to  seek  these  in 
country  districts.  Among  the  sights  of  such  regions  it 
must  always  be  the  trees  and  flowers  which  make  the  widest 
appeal,  and  here  recent  scientific  developments  have  done 
much  for  the  unspeciaUsed  traveller. 

Till  a  comparatively  short  time  ago  an  interest  in  plants 
was  held  to  involve  necessarily  an  acquaintance,  more  or 
less  detailed,  with  systematic  botany.  This  in  its  turn 
meant  carrying  a  flora,  preferably,  for  most  people,  an 
illustrated  one,  a  supply  of  blotting  paper,  pressing  boards, 
and  a  variety  of  other  necessaries  which  will  suggest  them- 
selves at  once  to  the  experienced.  The  plants  collected 
found  usually  a  temporary  home  in  the  water  jug  till  such 
time  as  they  could  be  decently  shrouded  in  blotting  paper, 
interred  within  the  boards,  and  buried  beneath  one  of  the 
legs  of  the  bed,  to  the  huge  indignation  of  the  chambermaid. 
The  operation  of  washing,  never  very  easy  in  a  mountain 
inn,  was  rendered  more  difiicult  by  the  floating  remnants 
of  the  collection  which  seemed  to  accumulate  to  an  alarming 
extent  at  the  bottom  of  the  ewer,  and  the  net  result  was 

69 


60  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

that  one  said  to  one's  fiiends  later,  in  a  casual  fashion,  '  We 
found  tAventy-three  gentians  and  eleven  campanulas  in  the 
Alps  this  year,'  whereat  the  friend  probably  rejoined,  '  Oh  ! 
we  specialised  in  Primulas  and  Androsaces.'  Meantime  the 
specimens  mouldered  till  the  next  spring  cleaning  consigned 
them  to  the  ash  bin. 

In  other  words,  till  recently,  an  interest  in  flowers,  if  at 
all  detailed,  meant  the  collecting  of  isolated  specimens. 
But  the  botanists  have  been  slowly  coming  to  their  own, 
and  now  consider  plants  not  as  individuals  but  as  members 
of  a  community,  the  particular  community  present  showing 
an  intimate  connection  with  the  local  peculiarities  of  chmate, 
of  soil,  of  exposure  and  so  forth. 

An  example  may  make  the  difference  clear.  Let  us  suppose 
that  we  set  out  for  a  ramble  on  one  of  those  rough  hill 
slopes  which  back  the  fashionable  resorts  of  the  Riviera,  on 
a  day  in  early  spring.  In  place  of,  or  if  you  will  in  addition 
to,  the  time-honoured  vasculum,  we  start  with  certain  con- 
ceptions of  the  prevailing  chmatic  conditions.  The  period 
is  one  of  bright  sunshine  and  warmth,  but  one  also  in 
which  rain  is  to  be  expected.  We  know  that  a  period  of 
high  temperature  and  severe  drought  is  yet  to  come.  We 
therefore  look  for  plants  which  take  advantage  of  the  favour- 
ing spring  conditions  to  flower  and  set  seed,  and  then  die 
down  to  the  ground  during  the  drought  of  summer,  leaving 
seeds,  underground  stems,  etc.,  to  start  life  again  at  the  time 
of  the  autumn  showers.  We  find  examples  in  the  many 
kinds  of  anemones,  in  the  curious  Itahan  arum,  in  the  bell 
hyacinth,  in  the  asphodel  and  many  another.  We  note 
also  that  when  these  plants  die  down  in  summer  there  will 
be  blank  spaces  left  where  they  once  bloomed,  so  that  the 
Mediterranean  region  shows  its  semi-desertic  character  in 
the  presence  of  such  gaps  in  summer,  or  as  we  say,  in  the 
absence  of  a  complete  cover  of  vegetation.  Save  in  rare 
cases,  our  more  northern  lands  show  no  such  bare  spaces, 


MEDITERRANEAN  SHRUBS 


6] 


except  where  the  shade  in  summer  in  the  beech  woods  is  so 
thick  that  even  mosses  can  scarcely  grow. 

We  look  next  at  the  innumerable  shrubs,  many  of  them 
now  in  full  and  gorgeous  bloom.  We  note  their  small  leaves, 
sometimes  silvery,  sometimes  dull  green  ;  the  frequency  of 
spines  ;    the  tendency  for  the  leaves  to  arrange  themselves 


Fio.  6. — The  Mastic  bush  (Pistacia  Icntiscus),  oue  of  the 
most  characteristic  shrubs  of  the  Mediterranean  maquis. 

obliquely  to  the  sun's  rays,  instead  of  perpendicularly  to 
them  as  do  the  leaves  of  most  of  our  forest  trees.  More 
especially,  as  we  climb  the  rough  and  stony  ways  we  feel, 
borne  to  us  on  waves  of  warm  air,  the  aromatic  scent  of 
•rosemary  and  mastic  bush,  of  lavender  and  myrtle.    We  reflect 


62  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

that,  unlike  anemone  and  bulbous  plant,  these  shrubs  must 
face  the  scorching  rays  of  the  summer  sun,  with  their  roots 
in  soil  which  may  not  be  moistened  for  weeks  or  even  months 
at  a  time.  Our  broad-leaved,  deUcate-textured  trees  and 
shrubs  would  wilt  and  die  in  that  furnace  heat,  and  in  the 
conflict  with  the  bla2dng  rays  the  oils,  to  which  the  scents 
of  the  Mediterranean  plants  are  due,  play  their  protective 
part  in  diminishing  loss  of  water.  On  our  upland  heaths, 
where  the  strong  wind  takes  away  moisture  from  leaves 
and  branches  at  a  rapid  rate,  while  the  roots  in  the  cold 
soil  can  absorb  it  but  slowly,  we  find  a  development  of  furze 
and  broom,  comparable  to,  though  less  varied  than,  the 
manifold  brooms  of  the  Mediterranean  region,  and  just  as 
the  hillsides  of  the  Riviera  slopes  blaze  into  bloom  for  a  short 
period  in  spring,  so  do  our  heaths  clothe  themselves  in 
splendour  during  the  most  favourable  season  of  their  year. 
Thus  we  gain  some  conception  of  what  is  meant  by  physio- 
logical drought— the  shrubs  of  the  Mediterranean  suffer 
from  drought  because  water  is  actually  lacking  in  the  hot 
season ;  the  shrubs  of  our  heaths  and  moors  suffer  from 
drought  because  the  temperature  or  the  quahty  of  the  soil 
is  such  that  they  can  absorb  water  but  slowly,  though  water 
may  be  superabundant  in  the  soil. 

We  need  not  stop  here  to  consider  in  detail  the  other 
characters  of  the  Mediterranean  vegetation — the  point  is 
that  though  it  is  interesting,  indeed  highly  desirable,  to 
know  the  names  of  the  commoner  plants,  it  is  their  fitness 
for  their  special  surroundings  rather  than  their  systematic 
position  to  which  we  should  devote  attention,  and  this  need 
not  involve  the  making  of  a  collection.  On  the  other  hand 
a  photograph,  or,  if  the  necessary  skill  be  present,  a  sketch, 
will  enable  one  to  study  at  leisure  the  fact  that  owing  to  the 
response  to  similar  conditions,  plants  of  very  different  families 
may  show  similar  characters. 

In  the  previous  chapter   we  suggested   that   the   spring 


THE  GLORY  OF  THE  NORTHERN  SPRING       63 


of  the  Mediterranean,  despite  the  novelists,  is  in  some  ways 
disappointing,  as  compared  with  the  spring  of  the  north. 
Some  of  the  Mediterranean  plants,  it  is  true,  show  in  spring 
a  lush  green  which  dehghts  the  eye,  but  the  number  of  these  is 
relatively  small  compared  ^_ 

with  those  who  dare  not 
deck  themselves  with  a 
mantle  of  splendour  to 
greet  the  youthful  Apollo, 
for  they  know  that  they 
must  also  face  him  when 
he  comes  to  the  fierce 
strength  of  his  manhood 
— even  in  spring  they  are, 
as  it  were,  upon  their 
guard.  How  different  is  the 
attitude  of  the  northern 
plants  !  They  know  that 
their  sun  god  is  gentle, 
even  in  the  time  of  his 
fullest  power ;  his  face 
may  be  ofttimes  veiled 
from  his  worshippers,  but 
he  never  blasts  them  with 
the  fire  of  his  wrath. 
When  they  throw  ofE  the 
wrappings  of  winter,  there- 
fore, it  is  for  ever  ;  they 
need  nothing  to  shield 
them  from  their  lord.  It 
is  -  the  frankness  of  their  abandon  that  gives  the  glory 
to  our  spring. 

Let  us  compare  the  Mediterranean  slope,  with  its  scented 
shrubs  and  glory  of  short-lived  spring  plants,  to  an  oak  or 
beech  wood  in   England.     In   winter   here   there   is   prac- 


Vir,.  7. — Sage-leaved  Cistus,  showing  the 
large,  delicate,  rose- like  flowors,  and  the 
relatively  small  leaves.  A  spring-flower- 
ing Mediterranean  plant. 


64  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

tically  no  sign  of  life.  The  annuals  are  long  since  gone, 
the  herbaceous  plants  have  died  to  the  ground,  and  their 
buds  are  protected  by  the  forest  Utter,  by  the  remnants  of 
their  own  dead  leaves  or  stems,  or  by  their  underground 
position.  The  trees  have  lost  their  leaves,  their  trunks  and 
branches  are  protected  by  bark,  the  buds  are  sheathed  in 
scales,  generally  with  the  addition  of  hairs  or  a  wet-resisting 
envelope  of  gum.  The  shrubs  which  form  the  undergrowth, 
rose,  bramble,  guelder  rose,  hawthorn,  hazel,  blackthorn, 
dogwood,  and  so  forth,  offer  similarly  few  points  of  attack 
to  frost  or  damp. 

When  spring  comes  the  whole  of  the  wood  does  not  wake 
at  once.  The  oaks,  tender-leaved  and  distrustful  of  the 
changeable  oceanic  spring,  are  reluctant  to  give  hostages 
to  fortune.  The  boldest  members  of  the  community  are  the 
humblest.  Celandine,  primrose,  violet,  dog's  mercury  and 
similar  forms  must  bloom  and  leaf  early,  for  Uttle  Ught  can 
reach  them  when  the  trees  are  at  their  thickest.  A  Uttle 
later  come  sheets  of  wood  anemones,  forget-me-nots,  blue 
hyacinth,  while  the  bracken  and  other  ferns  do  not  unfold 
till  much  later,  for  they  are  less  light-demanding  than  the 
flowering  plants.  The  latter  need  free  exposure  to  wind  if 
their  flowers  are  inconspicuous,  or  if  they  are  bright-coloured 
to  the  view  of  insects.  Thus  we  find  that  hazel  and  willow 
flower  very  early,  when  no  leaves  prevent  the  cloud  of  pollen 
sweeping  from  one  branch  to  another  or  from  one  tree  to 
another.  Rose  and  hawthorn  wait  till  late  spring  before 
their  splendid  blooms  unfold,  but  the  sloe,  with  its  humbler 
flowers,  must  needs  be  earUer  lest  in  the  glory  of  late  spring 
its  humbler  appeal  be  neglected. 

In  the  tropical  wood  there  is  a  great  development  of  cUmb- 
ing  plants,  which  use  the  trunks  of  the  tall  trees  to  scramble 
upward  to  the  Ught.  In  our  woods  these  are  relatively 
infrequent,  but  we  may  note  how  the  ivy  creeps  along  the 
ground,  rooting  as  it  goes,  and,  when  opportunity  offers, 


ENGLISH  WOODS  65 

climbs  up  the  boles  of  the  trees,  to  throw  off  at  the  top  its 
modest  guise  of  climber,  and  with  the  new  aspect  of  a  shrub 
to  flower  and  seed  in  the  open.  Of  humbler  form  is  the 
honeysuckle,  which  employs  shrubs  rather  than  trees  as  its 
liost-plant,  and  pours  its  honied  sweetness  into  the  evening 
air,  to  attract  the  night-flying  moths.  This  heavy  fragrance 
prevents  it  from  being  overlooked,  even  though  it  does  not 
flower  till  its  supporting  shrub  is  in  full  leaf. 

Not  only  in  our  crowded  summer  woods  are  there  tiers 
of  plants  above  ground — tree  above,  shrub  beneath,  herb 
below, — it  has  also  been  shown  that  the  layers  of  soil  them- 
selves are  distributed  among  a  number  of  competitors.  A 
pretty  example  of  this  is  the  association  of  dog's  mercury 
with  the  Uttle  Adoxa  in  the  ash-woods  of  Derbyshire.  In 
early  spring,  that  is  at  the  beginning  of  April,  the  Adoxa, 
whose  roots  he  in  the  upper  layers  of  the  soil,  flowers  freely 
in  the  shelter  of  the  unfolding  shoots  of  dog's  mercury. 
Later  the  Adoxa  dies  down  and  the  dog's  mercury,  whose 
roots  occupy  deeper  layers  of  soil,  unfolds  completely  and 
forms  great  stretches  of  green  in  the  woods.  Other  examples 
of  similar  conditions  occur. 

In  general  the  notable  contrasts  between  the  Mediterranean 
slopes  and  the  Enghsh  wood  are  due  to  the  fact  that  in  the 
former  area,  while  the  temperature  throughout  the  year  is 
high  enough  for  some  plant  growth,  water  is  deficient  during 
the  summer  season  ;  in  the  latter,  while  water  is  present  in 
the  soil  in  suflicient  amounts  for  plant  growth  throughout 
the' year,  the  temperature  in  winter  is  too  low.  In  the 
Mediterranean  area  therefore  plants  sensitive  to  drought 
can  only  appear  above  the  surface  during  the  cooler  and 
damper  season  ;  those  which  are  permanently  above  the 
surface  must  be  drought-resistant.  The  time  of  keenest 
competition  as  it  were  among  the  plants  is  that  during  which 
both  moisture  and  relatively  high  temperatures  are  available, 
i.e.  especially  during  the  spring. 

£ 


ee  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

In  regions  of  oceanic  climate  plants  can  only  flourish 
during  the  warmer  part  of  the  year,  and  the  fact  that  low- 
growing  plants  are  less  exposed  to  wind  than  tall  ones  makes 
it  possible  for  a  considerable  number  of  herbs  to  flower  and 
develop  leaves  at  a  time  when  the  temperature  is  not  high 
enough  for  the  trees  to  leaf.  Thus  in  the  wood,  the  most 
characteristic  plant  formation  of  the  oceanic  cHmate,  there 
is,  to  some  extent,  a  seasonal  differentiation  between  the 
herbaceous  plants,  largely  spring-blooming,  and  the  trees 
and  shrubs,  which  reach  their  full  development  in  summer. 
There  is  often  at  the  same  time  a  differentiation  in  the  layers 
of  the  soil,  which  permits  plants  to  occupy  the  same  area, 
without  directly  competing  with  one  another. 

This  method  of  studying  plants,  that  is,  not  as  individuals 
but  as  groups  occupying  a  particular  habitat,  and  controlled 
by  that  habitat,  is  called  ecological  botany.  In  ecological 
botany  the  influence  of  the  habitat  may  be  considered  under 
two  heads.  We  have  first  the  climatic  factors,  that  is,  the 
effect  of  the  amount  and  season  of  rainfall,  of  the  mean 
variations  of  temperature,  the  amount  of  sunshine  and 
moisture  in  the  air,  the  force  of  the  wind  and  so  forth.  These 
cUmatic  factors  determine  broadly  the  type  of  vegetation 
found  within  a  given  area  ;  for  instance,  the  presence  of 
forest  depends  upon  a  certain  distribution  of  moisture 
throughout  the  year.  At  the  same  time,  even  in  a  region 
of  practically  uniform  chmate,  local  variations  in  soil  and 
surface  exercise  a  marked  effect  upon  plant  Hfe.  Thus  the 
ecological  botanist  distinguishes  between  the  climatic  and 
the  edaphic  factors,  the  latter  being  the  result  of  the  chemical 
composition  of  the  soil,  its  water  content,  the  extent  to 
which  it  is  aerated  and  so  on.  Because  the  botanists,  to  an 
increasing  extent,  are  demonstrating  the  intimate  connection 
between  plant  communities  and  the  chmate  and  nature  of 
the  soil,  their  science  is  becoming  more  and  more  geographical. 

Let  us  enlarge  this  statement  a  Uttle.     If  we  say  simply — 


PLANT  COMMUNITIES  67 

many  kinds  of  gentians  grow  in  the  Alps,  we  have  an  isolated 
fact,  of  interest  no  doubt  but  of  no  great  significance.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  can  show  that  there  is  a  close  connec- 
tion between  those  pecuUarities  of  form  and  structure  which 
the  gentians  and  many  other  '  alpines  '  display,  and  the 
special  features  of  mountain  chmate  and  mountain  soil, 
then  the  presence  of  the  alpine  formation,  as  it  is  called,  in 
a  particular  region,  enables  us  to  draw  certain  conclusions 
as  to  the  soil  and  climate  of  the  region,  and,  conversely, 
the  existence  of  a  particular  type  of  climate  and  soil  conditions 
permits  us  to  assume  that  an  alpine  community  of  plants 
will  be  present — that  is,  we  have  a  geographical  generaUsation 
of  great  importance.  Thus  while  systematic  botany  can  in 
the  nature  of  things  make  an  appeal  only  to  a  Umited  number 
of  persons,  ecological  botany  is  of  importance  to  all  those 
who  are  interested  in  the  utihsation  of  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
and  that  is  practically  to  all  humanity. 

The  broad  distinctions  of  climate  determine  the  existence 
on  the  surface  of  a  relatively  small  number  of  plant  com- 
munities, such  as  woodland,  grassland,  moorland,  desert, 
and  so  forth,  and  these  the  ecologist  calls  formations.  But 
while  a  particular  type  of  formation,  say  the  deciduous  wood, 
may  reign  over  a  considerable  area,  it  is  not  constant  in 
characters  throughout.  Thus  while  oak-woods  are  frequent 
over  heavy  soils  in  England,  the  type  of  oak-wood  is  not 
always  the  same  ;  here  we  have  a  type  in  which  the  peduncu- 
late oak  predominates  as  a  forest  tree  among  lower  shrubs, 
and  here  one  in  which  tall  oaks  are  few  and  the  shrubs  are 
the  most  conspicuous  features  of  the  wood.  In  both  cases 
it  is  found  that  there  are  associated  groups  of  other  plants 
which  depend  more  or  less  closely  upon  the  presence  of  what 
is  called  the  dominant  species.  Such  divisions  within  the 
Umits  of  a  formation  are  called  associations,  and  within  the 
association  there  may  be  even  smaller  vegetation  units,  the 
plant-societies.     Meantime,  however,  it  is  sufficient  for  our 


68  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

purpose  to  recognise  the  distinction  between  the  formation, 
the  larger  unit,  and  the  association,  the  smaller. 

One  other  prehminary  point  must  be  noticed  before  we 
proceed  to  consider  the  chief  plant  formations  of  Europe. 
The  continent,  as  we  have  already  emphasised,  has  been  the 
home  of  civiHsation  for  a  prolonged  period.  In  consequence 
the  natural  vegetation  has  been  profoundly  modified,  and 
in  many  cases  it  is  impossible  to  reconstruct  with  certainty 
the  original  formations.  Nevertheless,  the  progress  of  plant 
physiology,  the  study  of  the  existing  remnants  of  the  original 
vegetation,  and  historical  research  make  it  possible  to  arrive 
at  least  at  some  general  conclusions  as  to  the  appearance  of 
the  plant  covering  of  Europe  before  it  had  been  radically 
modified  by  man's  activities,  and  these  general  conclusions 
add  interest  to  the  study  of  present  conditions. 

From  a  consideration  of  the  whole  of  the  evidence  it  seems 
fairly  clear  that  at  least  the  greater  part  of  Europe,  in  the 
sense  in  which  we  are  using  this  term,  was  originally  clothed 
in  what  we  may  describe  as  temperate  forest.  From  this 
region  of  temperate  forest  the  Mediterranean  region  is 
excluded,  for  it  had  originally  its  own  type  of  forest,  which 
persists  in  part.  Further,  the  steppe  region  of  southern 
Russia  has  probably  always  had  a  greater  or  less  extension 
westward,  though  its  original  western  boundary  is  obscure. 

Outside  these  eastern  and  southern  boundary  zones,  was 
the  temperate  forest  once  continuous  over  Europe  ?  Pro- 
bably not,  though  its  exact  hmits  are  difficult  to  trace.  At 
present  the  western  seaboard  of  the  continent,  especially  in 
North  Germany,  Holland  and  Belgium  is  largely  without 
forest,  and  we  all  know  that  treeless  moors,  or  deer-'  forests,' 
have  a  very  wide  distribution  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland, 
while  in  Ireland  also  there  is  relatively  little  wood.  The 
question  whether  these  extensive  moors  and  heaths  have 
always  been  devoid  of  trees  is  a  difficult  one,  and  the  subject 
is  rendered  additionally  thorny  by  the  fact  that  social  and 


THE  LOESS  AREAS  69 

even  political  questions  are  more  or  less  involved.  It  seems, 
however,  tolerably  certain  that  there  must  always  have  been 
a  belt — of  undetermined  width— of  treeless  land  on  the 
coast,  where  the  wind  rendered  forest  growth  difficult.  The 
soil  also  on  the  moist  seaboard  is  generally  more  or  less 
unsuitable  for  tree  growth,  though  whether  this  is  a  primary 
condition  or  a  result  of  deforestation  is  a  debated  question. 
But,  as  stated,  we  may  be  reasonably  certain  that  before 
man  in  Europe  began  to  alter  greatly  the  characters  of  the 
surface,  the  widespread  and  extensive  forests  of  continental 
Europe  and  of  the  lower  grounds  of  the  British  Islands 
were  generally  separated  from  the  seaboard  by  a  belt  of 
moor  and  heath.  Was  this  all  ?  Leaving  aside  the  elevated 
grounds,  to  which  we  shall  return  directly,  we  may  note 
that  there  is  reason  to  beUeve  that  through  the  forest  belt 
there  always  went  a  band  of  ground  with  at  best  but  thin 
wood — a  band  of  great  importance  in  connection  with  the 
development  of  European  civihsation.  Its  origin  requires 
a  Uttle  consideration. 

During  the  Ice  Age,  as  can  be  readily  shown  by  the  deposits 
left  by  the  ice,  the  ice  from  the  north  overrode  a  considerable 
area  in  the  Netherlands,  Germany,  and  so  forth,  descending, 
for  instance,  in  the  west  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Rhine, 
and  in  the  east  to  the  region  of  the  headwaters  of  the  Oder 
and  the  Vistula.  At  the  same  time  the  enlarged  glaciers 
of  the  Alps  pushed  northwards,  but  the  two  sheets  did  not 
meet,  and  between  them  was  a  belt  of  land  which  at  one 
period  was  subjected  to  cold  steppe  conditions,  and  where, 
apparently  owing  to  the  action  of  wind,  a  fine-grained,  Ume- 
containing  deposit  called  loess  accumulated  in  thick  layers. 
This  loess,  which  is  clay-like  in  appearance,  extends  from 
Picardy  to  Poland,  and  includes  some  of  what  are  now  the 
most  fertile  lands  of  Europe,  those  specially  suited  for  wheat 
and  sugar-beet.  The  loess  belt  is  continued  into  Russia, 
where  in  part  it  is  mingled  with  humus  {i.e.  material  obtained 


70  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

from  the  decay  of  vegetable  matter),  and  forms  the  soil  of 
the  famous  black  earth  region,  before  the  war  one  of  the 
sources  of  our  wheat. 

The  loess  tracts,  as  we  know  from  fossil  remains,  have 
been  from  a  very  early  period  favourite  regions  with  European 
man.  Before  he  had  learnt  to  polish  his  stone  implements, 
when  he  was  as  yet  but  a  himter  pursuing  the  animals  of  the 
Ice  Age,  he  hunted  in  the  loess  areas,  where  free  movement 
was  probably  relatively  easy,  where  game  was  more  abundant 
than  in  the  gloomy  depths  of  the  forest,  where  pitfalls  for  his 
prey  and  perhaps  dwelhngs  for  himself  could  be  easily  dug, 
and  through  all  the  ages  since  he  has  never  in  Europe  relaxed 
his  hold  on  these  tracts. 

Now  we  know  that  loess,  though  suitable  for  herbaceous 
plants,  is  relatively  unsuited  to  trees,  and  the  loess  areas, 
so  far  back  as  we  can  trace  history,  have  been  at  best  scantily 
wooded.  According  to  some  the  treeless  condition  is  primitive 
— for  NeoHthic  man  sowed  and  reaped  here,  and  his  stone 
axes,  pohshed  though  they  were,  would  hardly  enable  him 
to  effect  clearings  on  a  large  scale.  According  to  another 
singularly  ingenious  hypothesis,  the  loess  belt  was  clear  of 
trees  at  the  end  of  the  Ice  Age,  because  of  the  steppe  condi- 
tions which  then  prevailed.  It  would,  if  left  to  itself,  have 
become  gradually  clothed  with  trees  as  the  chmate  improved 
after  the  passing  away  of  the  ice,  but  by  this  time  NeoHthic 
man  had  domesticated  hoofed  animals,  and  his  grazing 
herds  prevented  the  estabhshment  of  forest  even  over  the 
tracts  which  he  did  not  cultivate.  This  is  of  course  not  more 
than  an  interesting  guess,  but  the  point  of  importance  is  that 
in  addition  to  the  areas  of  natural  grassland  formed  by  the 
eastern  steppe,  and  the  moors  and  heaths  on  the  seaward 
margin,  Europe,  even  before  man  was  dominant,  contained 
an  inland  belt  of  land  adapted  by  its  thin  wood  or  scrub  to 
easy  clearing  with  primitive  implements,  and  allowing  for 
the  grazing  of  herds.     These  loess  lands  were  the  lands  of 


THE  FORMATIONS  OF  THE  FOREST  REGION     71 

early  settlement,  though  the  coastal  lands  were  also  settled 
to  some  extent,  as  we  know  from  the  presence  of  '  kitchen- 
middens.'     Between  such  areas  where  settlement  was  rela- 
tively easy  lay  the  dark,  impenetrable  forest,  difficult  to  clear 
for  primitive  peoples,  especially  as  the  cUmate  made  the  use 
of  fire  somewhat  difficult ;    difficult  also   to  plough  when 
cleared,  as  compared  with  the  friable  loess,  and,  owing  to 
its  density  probably  sheltering  but  fittle  game,  and  offering 
Uttle    pasture    for    domesticated    animals.     These    primeval 
woods  formed  the  real  dividing  lines  between  peoples,  and 
only  their  edges,  or  the  natural  clearings  within  them,  could 
be  utihsed  by  the  flocks.     The  presence  of  encircfing  wood, 
however,  round  the  cultivated  lands  meant  that  the  civihsa- 
tion  of  Central  Europe  had'  from  the  start  a  double  basis — 
the  people  were  at  once  pastoral  and  agricultural.     Later 
the  primitive  woods  were  largely  cleared  by  organised  effort, 
and  the  existing  forests  of  Central  Europe  are  the  greatly 
modified   and   reduced  descendants  of  the  original   nearly 
continuous  wood. 

In  addition,  however,  to  the  loess  lands  there  were  other 
parts  of  Central  Europe  where  the  primitive  forest  was  absent. 
These  are  the  regions  which  rise  above  the  limit  where  tree 
growth  is  possible,  and  yet  are  able  to  produce  a  seasonal 
growth  of  plants  yielding  rich  fodder,  and  thus  supplementing 
the  pastures  of  the  lowlands.  These  are  the  regions  which 
are  in  summer  covered  with  so  varied  a  growth  of  Alpine 
plants,  some  of  which  reappear  in  Arctic  regions. 

The  net  result  is  that  the  temperate  forest  region  of  Europe 
offers  at  least  three  well-defined  plant  formations  for  study  : 
— (1)  The  remanants,  often  greatly  modified,  of  the 
original  forest  (chapter  vu.)  ;  (2)  The  moors  and  heaths, 
now  often  of  great  extent,  found  especially  near  the  coastal 
belt  (chapter  x.) ;  (3)  The  Arctic-alpine  formation  of  the 
heights  (chapter  ix.),  whether  of  the  Alps,  of  the  Scandinavian 
mountains,  or  of  the  Scottish  Highlands,  where  this  flora  is 


72  THE  PLANT  AND  ITS  HOME 

only  moderately  well-developed.  Other  formations,  of  more 
limited  extent,  such  as  those  of  swamp  or  sand  dune,  also 
occur,  but  studies  of  the  three  named  are  sufficient  to  give 
an  insight  into  the  methods  of  the  ecological  botanist. 

We  shall  discuss  them  briefly  in  separate  chapters,  but 
meantime  may  add  in  a  word  that  the  fourth  formation 
which  can  be  studied  in  Europe  within  easy  reach  of  Great 
Britain  is  that  of  the  Mediterranean  region  (chapter  viii.). 
This  region  was  once,  in  all  probabihty,  fairly  well-forested, 
but  fragments  only  of  the  forest  remain,  in  specially  favoured 
locaUties.  Its  special  feature,  as  already  suggested,  is  its 
wealth  of  shrubs,  which  generally  show  adaptation  to 
summer  drought,  and  of  herbaceous  plants  whose  activities 
are  confined  to  the  moister  season.  Owing  to  the  summer 
drought  pasture  is  difficult  to  obtain,  and,  except  where 
elevation  or  some  other  cause  increases  the  local  rainfall, 
cattle  tend  to  be  scanty.  While  the  civiHsation  of  Central 
Europe  was  based  from  the  start  on  pastoral  and  agricultural 
industries  combined,  that  of  the  Mediterranean  region  was 
always  based  on  a  combination  of  agriculture  and  fruit- 
growing, which  is  a  form  of  gardening. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   PRIMEVAL   FOREST 

'  There  rolls  the  deep  where  grew  the  tree.' 

Wk  have  suggested  in  the  last  chapter  that  we  have  to  think 
of  the  greater  part  of  Europe  as  originally  forming  a  sea  of 
green,  from  which  emerged  hke  islands  the  higher  mountains, 
the  loess  belts,  and  a  band  of  unknown  width  on  the  margin 
of  the  ocean.  Dr.  Gradmann  gives  an  interesting  description 
of  the  probable  original  hmits  of  this  forest : — '  We  obtain 
the  impression  of  a  continuous  primeval  forest,  stretching 
from  the  Alps  to  the  North  Sea  and  the  Baltic,  from  the 
Atlantic  coast  to  the  plains  of  Hungary  and  the  steppes  of 
Southern  Russia,  and,  further  to  the  north,  continued  into 
the  belt  of  wood  which  crosses  Siberia.  Only  a  few  gaps 
break  the  continuity  of  this  primitive  forest.  Here  are  the 
summits  of  the  Alps  and  the  Carpathians,  and  the  more 
important  elevations  of  certain  lower  mountains,  such  as  the 
Sudetes,  the  Harz,  the  Black  Forest,  the  Vosges,  the  Swiss 
Jura,  which  raise  their  bare  summits  above  the  sea  of  wood. 
Here  are  further  the  landes  and  heaths,  the  salt-marshes  and 
moors  of  the  coast  of  the  North  Sea  ;  inland  are  some  fresh- 
water marshes  and  larger  patches  of  moor  ;  except  for  these 
the  only  gaps  are  the  bare  patches  over  rock  falls  and  masses 
of  scree,  or  the  clearings  due  to  hghtning,  gales,  or  heavy 
snowfalls,  destined  to  be  regrown  over  within  a  short  period. 
Only  on  steep  sunny  slopes,  and  perhaps,  in  regions  of  very 
great  dryness,  also  on  the  plains,  as  in  the  case  of  the  heaths 
of  South  Bavaria,  or  of  certain  loess  and  chalk  hills  in  Central 

73 


74  THE  PRIMEVAL  FOREST 

Germany,  have  we  to  think  of  the  wood  as  being  somewhat 
thinner — elsewhere  there  reigns  unbroken  the  dense,  con- 
tinuous primeval  forest/ 

This  primitive  forest  must  have  been  to  a  very  large  extent 
made  up  of  broad-leaved  trees,  for  the  present  predominance 
of  conifers  is  largely  due  to  man's  interference,  a  point  to 
which  we  shall  return.  Now  such  a  broad-leaved  temperate 
forest  is  the  characteristic  plant  formation  of  a  moist  cHmate, 
without  excessive  extremes.  We  have  spoken  of  the  climates 
of  Europe,  and  have  distinguished  between  the  oceanic  type 
which  prevails  within  reach  of  Atlantic  influences,  and  the 
more  extreme  continental  type  which  is  present  where  these 
influences  fail  to  reach.  But  we  must  not  forget  that,  com- 
pared to  Asia,  the  whole  of  Europe  has  a  cHmate  which  may 
be  described  as  oceanic — hence  the  contrast  between  the 
broad-leaved  forest  of  Europe  and  the  steppes  and  coniferous 
forests  of  temperate  Asia. 

The  distribution  of  the  beech,  the  typical  broad-leaved 
tree  of  the  oceanic  climate,  is  of  great  interest  in  this  connec- 
tion. Its  eastern  hmit  almost  coincides  with  that  which  we 
have  taken  as  the  eastern  Hmit  of  Europe  in  the  narrow  sense 
in  which  we  defined  this  term  in  Chapter  i.  In  the  north- 
west of  Europe  the  beech  occurs  down  to  sea-level  wherever 
the  cHmate  is  warm  enough  ;  thus  it  is  absent  as  an  indigenous 
tree  from  the  north  of  Norway  and  from  Scotland,  but  forms 
beautiful  native  woods  in  south-east  England.  But  its 
distribution  is  determined  not  only  by  the  need  for  a  tolerably 
long  warm  period,  but  also  by  the  fact  that  it  requires  a 
large  amount  of  moisture  in  its  growing  season.  Thus  its 
eastern  hmit  is  indicated,  roughly  speaking,  by  a  Hne  from 
Konigsberg  to  Odessa,  though,  after  avoiding  the  Russian 
steppes,  it  reappears  in  the  Caucasus,  where  the  elevation 
brings  greater  moisture. 

The  summer  drought  excludes  the  tree  from  the  whole 
of  the  lower  grounds  within  the  Mediterranean  region,  but 


OAK  AND  BEECH  WOODS  75 

it  reappears  so  soon  as  elevation  brings  sufficient  summer 
rain,  at  least  so  far  south  as  the  mountains  of  Sicily,  Castille 
and  Central  Greece.     So  susceptible  is  it,  however,  to  want 
of  rain,  that  it  has  only  a  limited  extension  up  the  Rhone 
valley  from  Geneva,  dying  out  so  soon  as  it  ceases  to  feel 
the  moist  breath  of  the  lake,  i.e.  it  does  not  extend  very  far 
beyond  the  town  of  Martigny,  though  it  is  a  very  characteristic 
plant  of  Switzerland  generally.     Again,  it  is  absent  from  the 
lower  Rhone  valley,  as  fi"om  Provence  and  Languedoc  gener- 
ally, and  only  appears  at  the  town  of  Lyons,  where  the 
summer   cUmate  is   moister.     Thus   the   tree,   which  forms 
beautiful  woods  in  the  vicinity  of  Lake  Geneva,  on  the  Swiss 
plateau  generally,  in  the  Fore  Alps  and  in  the  Jura,  is  worth 
careful  note,   for  its  presence   means  that   the   climate   in 
summer  is  relatively  moist,  and  the  warm  season  prolonged. 
In  earUer  days,  like  the  different  kinds  of  oaks,  the  tree  had 
great  economic  importance,  for   its  mast,    in   combination 
with  acorns,  formed  a  very  considerable  part  of  the  food  of 
the  herds  of  pigs,  once  so  supremely  important  in  the  life 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Europe.     But  these  were  the  days 
before  winter  food  for  cattle  was  available  to  any  consider- 
able extent,  and  when  the  fact  that  the  flesh  of  pigs  could  be 
readily  preserved  for  winter  use  made  the  animals  of  great 
value.     They  still,  of  course,  retain  considerable  significance, 
but  the  world's  supply  of  swine  is  increased  by  the  existence 
of  the  maize  belt  of  the  United  States,  which  supplies  abun- 
dant cheap  and  fattening  food,  and  has  modified  the  whole 
conditions  of  the  trade.     Acorn  and  beech  mast  cannot  now 
be  said  to  affect  the  supply  of  pork  or  ham,  except  in  certain 
limited  areas,  e.g.  to  some  extent  in  Serbia. 

The  distribution  of  the  beech,  as  we  have  just  shown, 
emphasises  the  contrast  between  the  oceanic  cUmate,  in  its 
various  forms,  and  the  Mediterranean  one,  for  the  beech  will 
not  tolerate  the  typical  Mediterranean  chmate.  But  it  is 
worth  note  that  while  the  beech  underlines,  as  it  were,  the 


76 


THE  PRIMEVAL  FOREST 


contrast  between  the  mild  moist  summer  of  part  of  the 
north-west  and  the  hot  dry  summer  of  the  Mediterranean 
region,  there  are  other  plants  of  the  forest  which  emphasise 
the  resemblance  between  the  mild  damp  winter  of  the 
Atlantic  belt  and  the  equally  mild  and  also  moist  winter  of 
the  Mediterranean.  Because  of  the  resemblance  between 
the  two  climates  at  this  season  certain  Mediterranean  plants 

have  succeeded  in 
extending  their 
range  to  the  north- 
west. The  arbutus 
(Fig.  8),  which 
flourishes  in  south- 
west Ireland  as  it 
does  also  in  the 
whole  of  the  Medi- 
terranean region,  is 
an  excellent  ex- 
ample, and  its  pres- 
ence indicates  the 
difference  between 
the  climate  of 
south-west  Ireland 
and  that  of  any 
part  of  continental 
Europe  outside  the 
Mediterranean  re- 
gion. Another 
example,  somewhat  less  familiar,  is  that  of  black  bryony. 
Natives  of  the  south  of  England,  especially  of  the  south- 
west, are  famihar  with  this  plant  from  childhood,  and  feel 
no  surprise  at  seeing  its  graceful  trails, -with  their  splendid 
scarlet  berries,  twining  round  the  bushes  of  the  Alps.  On 
the  other  hand,  to  natives  of  north-eastern  England,  the 
whole  of  Scotland,  and  by  far  the  greater  part  of  Ireland,  no 


Fio.  8. — The  Strawberry  tree  (Arbutus),  an  ever- 
green shrub  or  tree,  native  to  tlie  Mediterranean 
but  also  extending  to  south-west  Ireland,  where 
the  mild  climate  suits  it  well. 


TRANSITIONAL  AREAS  77 

less  than  to  the  Russian,  the  Austrian  and  the  German,  the 
plant  when  first  seen  in  the  Alps  is  a  treasure  because  an 
entire  stranger.  It  is  a  Mediterranean  plant  which  found 
its  way  first  to  the  Alps,  whither  it  was  attracted  by  the 
mountain  chmate,  which  in  some  respects  resembles  that 
of  the  ocean  belt.  From  the  Alps  this  plant  has  extended 
its  range  westwards  through  France  to  England,  Belgium  and 
so  forth. 

Many  other  examples  could  be  given,  but  the  point  is 
simply  that  while  the  broad-leaved  forest  corresponds 
generally  to  the  oceanic  chmate  and  the  Mediterranean 
scrub  forest  to  the  Mediterranean  chmate,  yet  in  nature 
there  are  no  hard  and  fast  lines,  and  the  transitions  from 
one  type  of  chmate  to  another  are  marked  by  the  plants, 
the  more  adaptable  forms  of  which  are  able  to  transgress 
the  hmits  of  their  own  chmate  and  estabhsh  themselves 
in  neighbouring  territory.  Part  of  the  reason  why  man  has 
thriven  so  well  in  Europe  is  due  to  the  existence  of  these 
numerous  transitional  belts,  both  of  chmate  and  of  vegeta- 
tion, which  have  enabled  him  to  thrust  himself  and  his 
chosen  plants  in  along  the  hnes  of  weakness,  as  it  were,  that 
is,  in  the  regions  where  the  native  plants  had  a  less  strong 
hold  than  elsewhere.  His  grip  of  the  loess  belts  through  all 
the  period  since  his  first  appearance  in  Europe  is  an  interest- 
ing example  of  this,  and  from  his  points  d'appui  here  and 
in  the  Mediterranean  region  European  man  has  succeeded  in 
spreading  not  only  over  the  whole  of  Europe  but  over  much 
of  the  rest  of  the  world  also. 

But  what  are  we  to  say  as  to  the  special  characters  of  the 
European  temperate  forest  ?  The  first  point  is  that,  speaking 
broadly,  the  lower  grounds  and  the  more  fertile  regions,  with 
the  exceptions  already  noted,  were  originally  clothed  in 
broad-leaved  forest,  in  which,  there  can  be  httle  doubt, 
oaks  generally  predominated,  the  beech  taking  its  place  in 
special  cases.     Forest  in  which  other  trees  predominated, 


78  THE  PRIMEVAL  FOREST 

like  the  ash-woods  of  the  English  limestone  regions,  were 
probably  always  relatively  rare. 

In  the  higher  latitudes,  at  the  greater  elevations,  and  in 
less  fertile  regions  conifers  tended  to  predominate,  often 
accompanied,  however,  by  the  birch,  which  is  very  resistant 
to  cold  and  wind,  and  by  the  alder,  which  is  especially  the  tree 
of  damp  regions  (Plate  XV.).  In  general,  as  we  all  know, 
conifers  keep  their  leaves  through  the  year,  or  are  evergreen, 
though  to  this  statement  the  larch  forms  a  famiHar  exception. 
As  we  shall  see  later,  the  Mediterranean  forest  also  is  typically 
evergreen,  so  that  we  have  to  think  of  the  deciduous  broad- 
leaved  forest  of  Central  Europe  as  being  bounded  to  the 
north  and  south  aUke,  no  less  than  at  its  upper  limit,  by 
evergreen  trees.  It  may  seem  at  first  sight  strange,  in  view 
of  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  way  in  which  plants  respond 
to  the  effect  of  the  surrounding  conditions,  that  the  cold 
blasts  of  the  mountain  heights,  the  cold,  wind  and  snow  of 
high  latitudes,  and  the  hot  dry  air  of  the  Mediterranean 
region,  should  all  alike  lead  to  a  predominance  of  evergreen 
plants.  The  reason  is  in  reahty  relatively  simple.  Trees 
with  broad  and  tender  leaves  hke  oak  and  beech  divide  their 
year  into  two  sharply  contrasted  periods.  In  winter  they 
economise  water  and  offer  the  maximum  resistance  to  cold, 
wind  and  snow  ;  in  summer  they  demand  enormous  quantities 
of  water  and  have  no  protection  against  cold  or  snow  and 
little  against  strong  wind — but  then  they  can  only  live  in 
cHmates  and  at  elevations  where  such  risks  have  not  to  be 
faced  in  summer.  Taking  the  Scots  pine  as  a  typical  conifer, 
we  find  that  it  is  so  shaped  that  snow  shps  off  its  branches, 
its  slender  leaves  ofier  Httle  resistance  to  wind,  its  tough 
leaves  aUke  in  summer  and  winter  are  protected  against  cold 
and  excessive  loss  of  water.  It  remains,  as  it  were,  perma- 
nently upon  its  guard  (p.  63),  but  at  any  season  of  the  year 
can  take  advantage  of  favourable  conditions,  should  these 
occur.     In  the  case  of  Mediterranean  plants  the  chief  risk 


rLA'l'I'.  V 


Scots  pine  in  the  Sjjev  district.     Note  the  characteristic  rouudeil 
forms  of  the  hills  in  the  hackgrouiul. 


NATIVE  AND  INTRODUCED  TREES  79 

is  not  from  cold  or  wind,  but  from  excessive  loss  of  water, 
which  perhaps  cannot  be  replaced  ;  these  plants  again  there- 
fore remain  permanently  protected,  and  present  a  general 
resemblance  in  their  evergreen  condition  to  the  northern 
conifers,  though  the  details  of  structure  are  quite  different. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  tendency  for  oak  and  beech  to  pre- 
dominate in  the  broad-leaved  woods.  They  are  not  of 
course  the  only  forest-forming,  broad-leaved  trees  even  in 
northern  Europe,  but  the  point  is  that  the  broad-leaved 
forest  at  best  contains  a  relatively  small  number  of  trees, 
and  that  these  are  markedly  social,  tending  to  occur  in  almost 
pure  woods.  This  presence  of  a  small  number  of  species  is 
equally  characteristic  of  the  coniferous  woods,  and  is  indeed 
a  general  feature  of  the  vegetation  of  Europe.  In  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland  there  occurs  only  one  native  forest-forming 
conifer — the  Scots  pine  (Plate  V.).  Switzerland  has  some  half 
a  dozen  forest-forming  conifers,  a  number  considerably  greater, 
but  yet  still  small  when  compared  with  the  wealth  of  species 
found  in  western  North  America,  just  as  the  number  of  our 
broad-leaved  trees  is  insignificant  as  compared  with  those 
found  in  eastern  North  America  or  eastern  temperate  Asia. 

One  consequence  of  this  is  that  not  only  the  majority  of 
the  trees  used  for  ornamental  purposes,  but  even  the  species 
employed  in  economic  forestry  are  for  the  most  part  intro- 
duced. It  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  facts  of  geography, 
that  while  Europe  has  given  the  recently  developed  temperate 
parts  of  the  world  most  of  their  cultivated  plants,  yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  she  is  indebted  to  those  recently  developed  regions 
for  a  great  number  of  the  trees  now  grown — and  in  all  proba- 
bihty  the  two  facts  are  related.  Does  this  seem  far-fetched  ? 
It  is  clear  at  least  that  the  plough  of  the  Ice  Age  made  broad 
its  furrows  over  what  was  to  be  one  great  home  of  civihsed 
man.  It  killed  out  or  drove  south  very  many  plants  which 
once  lived  there,  and  which  can  still  hve  when  reintroduced  ; 
it  drove  out  or  killed  out  many  animals  ;  it  disturbed  drainage 


80  THE  PRIMEVAL  FOREST 

conditions  ;  it  piled  up  clays  or  gravels,  and  the  winds  of 
the  period  of  steppe  climate  swept  the  finer  particles  together 
to  form  the  fertile  loess  ;  it  introduced  a  thousand  changes 
and  disturbances  into  the  old  condition  of  things,  and  before 
the  balance  of  nature  could  be  readjusted  man  developed 
intelhgence  enough  to  take  advantage  of  the  oscillations 
produced,  and  made  for  himself  such  a  place  in  nature  as  he 
has  to  this  day  failed  to  make  in  the  heart  of  the  stable, 
unchanging  continent  of  Africa,  where  the  mighty  equatorial 
forest  still  mocks  his  efforts.  Where  nature  left  disorder 
he  has  made  at  least  a  kind  of  order,  where  she  destroyed 
he  has — in  however  partial  a  fashion — reconstructed. 

To  find  examples  of  the  effects  of  the  Ice  Age,  so  far  as  the 
forests  are  concerned,  it  is  not  necessary  to  cross  the  channel, 
for  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  are  full  of  striking  illustrations. 
Let  the  tourist  seek  the  Black  Wood  of  Rannoch,  the  Forest 
of  Rothiemurchus  (Plate  XXVI. ),  or  the  forest  which  fringes 
the  flanks  of  '  dark  Lochnagar.'  In  each  case  the  pines  of  the 
primitive  forest  represent  at  once  a  conquest  and  a  defeat 
(Plate  XIV.) :  a  conquest,  for  the  pines  where  they  prosper  have 
driven  out  the  all-invading  heather,  and  their  presence  means  a 
re-acquisition  of  ground  deforested  by  the  effects  of  the  Glacial 
Period  ;  a  defeat,  for  the  fact  that  they  and  they  alone 
represent  the  conifers  of  continental  Europe  means  that  the 
colonisation  of  Great  Britain  after  the  ice  had  passed  away 
was  but  slow  and  partial.  On  his  journey  north  the  traveller 
may  note  that  the  spruce  woods,  the  plantations  of  larch,  of 
Douglas  and  of  many  another  introduced  tree  show  that  man, 
when  he  will,  can  accomphsh  what  nature  has  failed  to  do. 

His  will,  in  so  far  as  afforestation  is  concerned,  has  not 
hitherto  been  very  strenuously  apphed  in  Britain,  but  in 
France  and  Germany  especially,  the  destruction  of  the  original 
woods  by  man  has  been  followed  by  a  reconstruction.  The 
destruction  was  to  gain  fresh  land  for  cultivation,  and  there- 
fore the  reconstruction  has  been  largely  on  lands  which  are  not 


PRESENT-DAY  FORESTS  81 

well  suited  for  cultivation.  Both  for  this  reason,  and  also 
because  of  the  commercial  value  of  the  timber  of  coniferous 
trees,  the  latter  now  greatly  predominate  over  broad-leaved 
forms,  and,  generally,  the  best  wooded  regions  are  those  of 
considerable  elevation — such  as  the  Black  Forest,  Vosges, 
Harz  and  so  forth,  or  are  districts  which  could  not  be  easily 
utiUsed  for  cultivation,  e.g.  the  landes  of  France.  The  former 
prevalence  of  broad-leaved  forests,  now  of  somewhat  limited 
distribution,  must  be  deduced  from  a  variety  of  facts,  among 
which  are  the  occurrence  over  Europe  of  many  kinds  of 
shrubs  and  herbaceous  plants  whose  natural  home  is  the 
forest. 

For  those  who  have  no  detailed  interest  in  botany  the 
point  of  importance  is  to  realise  that,  let  us  say,  the  chestnut 
woods  which  fringe  the  railway  Hne  as  one  ascends  towards 
the  Mt.  Cenis  tunnel  on  the  ItaUan  side,  the  beech 
woods  near  Sixt,  the  avenues  of  catalpas  at  Argeles  in  the 
Pyrenees,  the  fir-woods  of  any  Swiss  valley,  the  patches  of 
Robinia  and  the  willows  along  the  watercourses  in  the  \)\am 
of  Lombardy — to  mention  but  a  few  of  the  pictures  which 
any  traveller  can  call  up— have  each  and  all  a  tale  to  tell. 
Each  owes  its  origin  to  a  combination  of  causes,  physical 
and  economic,  each  represents  a  stage  in  a  process  of  cease- 
less change  and  adjustment,  and  he  who  would  travel  aright 
must  not  only  have  the  seeing  eye  to  perceive  such  things, 
but  should  have  the  background  of  knowledge  which  enables 
him  to  grasp  some  part  of  their  significance. 

References.  The  book  which  gave  the  first  great  stimulus  to  the 
study  of  ecological  botany  was  Schimper's  work,  translated  as  Plant 
Geography.  An  account  of  later  developments,  in  so  far  as  they  refer 
to  the  British  Isles,  will  be  found  in  Types  of  British  Vegetation,  edited 
by  A.  G.  Tansley,  with  a  short  bibhography.  Gradmann's  interesting 
paper  on  the  primeval  forest  of  Europe,  quoted  on  p.  73,  will  be  found 
in  the  Geographische  Zeitschrift,  xvii.  (1901),  and  dc  Martonne's  Traitc 
de  Geographic  Physique  gives  an  account  of  the  general  subject,  with 
a  bibhography. 

F 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MYRTLE   AND   BAY 

'  Awake,  O  north  wind  ;  and  come,  thou  south  ;  blow  upon  my 
garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out.' 

Mediterranean  plants,  which  we  have  to  consider  in  this 
chapter,  have  always  attracted  the  attention  of  northerners, 
and  most  of  the  monographs  which  have  been  written  upon 
the  subject  have  been  written  not  by  natives  of  the  region, 
but  by  sojourners.  Some  of  these  doubtless  owe  their  origin 
to  the  fact  that  the  mild  winter,  which  is  also,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  most  active  period  for  plants,  brings,  at  least  in  its 
latter  part,  many  seekers  after  health,  who  find  occupation 
and  sometimes,  let  us  hope,  the  recovery  which  they  seek, 
in  long  rambles  over  the  scented  slopes.  From  one  point 
of  view,  therefore,  the  host  of  books  and  papers  on  the  flora 
of  the  Mediterranean  has  the  pathetic  interest  that  attaches 
to  the  tameness  of  the  birds  in  the  beautiful  gardens  at 
Meran.  One  does  not  need  to  have  been  a  winter  visitor 
there  to  know  that  that  tameness  speaks  to  innumerable 
invalids  of  infinite  leisure. 

But  there  is  also  another  explanation.  To  any  one  with 
a  natural  love  of  plants  the  contrast  between  those  of  the 
Mediterranean  seaboard — native  or  naturaUsed — and  those 
of  north-western  Europe  is  so  striking,  so  inspiring,  that  it 
constitutes  in  itself  a  call  to  labour  too  insistent  to  be  dis- 
regarded. Some  of  us  will  always  remember,  with  a  rush  of 
emotion  which  time  does  not  diminish,  the  joy  at  the  first 
sight  of  some  favoured  spot. 


PLATK  \1 


( >li\  o  iriovc  on  the  llivieia. 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  SPRING  83 

It  is  not  only  the  coming  from  winter  gloom  to  a  glory 
like  that  of  summer  ;  it  is  not  the  penetrating  scents,  not 
the  sight  of  cypress  or  pine  against  the  clear  evening  sky, 
not  the  pink  cyclamens  against  the  green  of  the  olives,  the 
brilliant  fragility  of  the  cistiises,  blooming  in  the  midst  of 
the  rocks,  the  tall  candelabra  of  the  agaves,  the  oranges 
among  their  stiff  foliage,  the  great  pods  of  the  carob  hanging 
between  the  deep  green,  ash-like  leaves,  not  the  glory  of 
camellia  or  pittosporum  alone,  it  is  the  combination  of  so 
many  new  impressions,  which  makes  the  first  moments  seem 
crowded  with  glorious  hfe.  To  feel  the  sensation  in  its 
strength  one  must  surely  arrive  in  some  characteristic  region 
on  a  spring  afternoon,  when  the  night  seems  to  fall  before 
the  eyes  have  had  time  to  appreciate  one-tenth  of  the  feast 
spread  out,  when  one  darts  from  one  treasure  to  another  in 
the  gathering  gloom,  with  no  thought  to  spare  for  the  wonder- 
ful blue  of  the  ocean  which  yet,  if  not  consciously  observed, 
forms  a  setting  to  all  the  other  splendours.  When  finally 
one  stumbles  through  the  dark  with  an  armful  of  treasures, 
it  is  with  the  feeUng  that  no  to-morrow,  no  life  can  be  long 
enough  to  see,  to  learn,  to  enjoy  all  that  this  fairyland  has  to 
offer.  Many  visitors  have  had  this  feeling,  and  the  result 
is  a  formidable  list  of  monographs  in  which  the  authors  have 
ofttimes  sought  to  conceal  the  strength  of  their  passion  by 
a  veil  of  arid  nomenclature — really  a  lovers'  language  for 
those  who  can  read  the  cipher  ! 

In  somewhat  the  same  way  we  find  that  there  is  a  copious 
Uterature  (in  the  technical  sense)  devoted  by  American 
geologists  to  British  glacial  phenomena.  They  say,  in 
explanation,  that  in  these  islands  moraines  and  kames, 
boulder  clay  and  erratics,  ice-scratches  and  what-not  are 
so  famiUar  to  all  of  us  from  childhood  that  they  make  Uttle 
impression,  and  that  it  is  necessary  to  have  come  from  a 
region  where  glaciation  was  partial  in  order  to  appreciate 
the  strangeness  of  the  surface  forms  visible  here — that  is, 


84  MYRTLE  AND  BAY 

it  needs  the  stranger  to  show  us  the  interest  of  the  famihar. 
Whether  this  be  so  or  not,  there  is  no  doubt  that  to  most 
northern  folk  the  vegetation  of  Mediterranean  lands  makes 
a  very  strong  appeal,  equalled  only  by  the  glory  of  the  Alps 
in  the  early  summer. 

An  important  point  in  regard  to  it  is  that,  as  aheady 
suggested,  it  has  a  very  Hmited  and,  further,  a  somewhat 
irregular  distribution.  One  naturally  thinks  of  Italy  as  the 
Mediterranean  country  par  excellence,  and  yet  a  very  consider- 
able part  of  the  surface  there  bears  the  Central  European 
type  of  vegetation.  One  may  endeavour  to  exclude  a  large 
part  of  the  area  without  Mediterranean  plants  by  saying 
that  the  whole  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy  is  not  Italy  but 
Cisalpine  Gaul,  but  this  quibble  will  hardly  serve,  for  parts 
of  the  areas  fringing  the  great  lakes,  to  the  north  of  the 
plain,  have  a  distinctly  Mediterranean  character ;  one  finds, 
for  example,  lemon,  ohve,  pomegranate,  loquat,  terebinth 
trees,  the  great  reed,  and  so  forth,  round  the  shores  of  Lake 
Garda.  Again,  south  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy  the  main- 
land contains  many  elevated  regions  in  which  the  typical 
Mediterranean  evergreens  are  absent.  Once  again,  taking 
the  Mediterranean  area  as  a  whole  we  find  that  the  easterly 
increase  in  the  cold  of  winter  (of.  p.  18),  combines  with 
elevation  to  limit  greatly  the  area  of  distribution  of  the 
Mediterranean  plants  in  the  north-eastern  part  of  the  region. 
Thus  though  Greece  is  typically  Mediterranean,  yet,  taking 
the  Balkan  Peninsula  as  a  whole,  Mediterranean  plants  cover 
but  a  small  area  there,  and  on  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Adriatic 
especially  they  give  place,  a  very  short  distance  inland,  to  a 
purely  Central  European  flora.  Bosnia  and  Serbia  retain 
extensive  tracts  of  mid-European  forest,  with  oaks  and 
beech  predominating,  and  the  pigs  of  Serbia  owe  their  numbers 
to  this  fact,  just  as  the  cattle  of  the  same  country  are  due  to 
a  non-Mediterranean  abundance  of  pasture.  In  regions 
where  it  is  typically  developed,  as  e.g.  on  the  Riviera,  round 


MEDITERRANEAN  PLANT  ASSOCIATIONS       85 

Naples,  in  Sicily,  and  so  on,  the  Mediterranean  vegetation 
forms  a  very  well-defined  unit,  and  brings  with  it  an  equally 
well-defined  mode  of  life,  depending  upon  the  characteristic 
cultivated  plants.  Everywhere,  however,  the  Mediterranean 
belt  is  hemmed  in  by  areas  of  quite  other  characters,  giving 
rise  to  a  different  type  of  civiUsation, 

As  the  Mediterranean  region  has  been  for  a  prolonged 
period  the  home  of  civiHsed  man,  we  find  that  the  native 
vegetation  has  not  only  been  encroached  upon  by  the  invad- 
ing plants  of  other  areas,  but  has  also  been  attacked  by  man, 
who  here,  no  less  than  to  the  north,  has  cleared  the  forest 
and  modified  the  surface  greatly  in  the  course  of  cultivation.- 
To  what  extent  high  forest  once  existed  over  the  area  gener- 
ally remains  uncertain,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
forests  have  been  very  extensively  cleared  ;  for  one  motive 
which  must  early  have  led  to  forest  preservation  and  re- 
afforestation in  the  north — the  necessity  of  abundant  firewood 
for  the  winter  cold,  operated  to  a  smaller  extent  in  the  south, 
where  firewood  was  chiefly  required  for  cooking  only.  Further, 
as  true  forest  in  the  Mediterranean  is  near  the  natural  limit 
of  its  range,  reafforestation  and  natural  regeneration  are  both 
alike  difficult.  In  other  words,  as  in  the  loess  region,  very 
Uttle  human  interference  would  turn  the  scale  definitely 
against  the  forest,  and  the  goat,  one  of  the  most  characteristic 
domestic  animals  of  the  region,  is  a  great  forest  destroyer. 
The  net  result  is  that  we  find  that  unaltered  or  Httle  altered 
Mediterranean  vegetation  occurs  for  the  most  part  only  in 
hilly  regions  or  regions  where  the  surface  soil  is  thin  and 
barren,  or  too  wet  for  cultivation,  and  that  generally  forest 
is  limited  to  the  greater  elevations. 

-  Broadly  speaking,  typical  Mediterranean  vegetation  occurs 
in  three  forms — the  forest,  now  chiefly  mountain  or  hill 
forest ;  the  maquis  or  scrub,  containing  evergreen  shrubs,  and 
probably  to  a  large  extent  replacing  forest  which  has  been 
cleared  from  the  lower  grounds ;  and  finally  the  garigue,  a 


86 


MYRTLE  AND  BAY 


stunted  type  of  vegetation  which  occurs  on  calcareous  soils, 
where  the  porous  hmestone  increases  greatly  the  natural 
dryness  of  the  climate  (Plates  VIII.  and  IX.).  Each  of 
these  three  formations  demands  separate  consideration. 

The  Mediterranean  forest,  despite  its  evergreen  character, 
resembles  the  forest  further  north  in  the  fact  that  the  species 

represented  are  few 
and  are  social.  In 
other  words,  the 
trees  tend  to  occur 
in  what  are,  in 
forester's  language, 
almost  pure  stands. 
A  contrast  with 
the  more  northern 
forest  is.  however, 
shown  in  the  fact 
that  the  trees 
usually  stand  well 
apart  from  each 
other,  and,  despite 
this  fact,  there  is 
but  little  under- 
growth. This  is  of 
course  a  result  of  the 
scarcity  of  water. 
Among  the  more 
important  forest 
trees  are  the  following  : — the  evergreen  or  holm  oak,  with  its 
rather  small  leaves,  dark  green  above  and  covered  with  a  greyish 
felt  below  (Fig.  9) :  the  cork  oak,  similar  in  characters  but  with 
a  greatly  thickened  bark,  is  commoner  to  the  west  than  to 
the  east :  the  maritime  pine  is  very  characteristic,  especially 
to  the  west,  and  is  distinguished  by  its  more  rigid  needles  from 
the  Aleppo  pine,  which  originally  predominated  to  the  east ; 


Fio.  9. — The  Evergreen  or  Holm  Oak,  one  of 
the  most  characteristic  trees  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean region. 


I'LATK  A'lr 


Mediterranean  pines. 


CHARACTERISTIC  TREES  AND  SHRUBS        87 

I)oth  are  now  extensively  planted  :  the  beautiful  stone  pine, 
whose  umbrella-shaped  crown  so  frequently  appears  in 
Italian  views  and  whose  seeds  are  edible  (pignons),  sometimes 
forms  extensive  woods :  the  cypress,  so  often  planted,  is 
native  only  in  the  eastern  Mediterranean  ;  these  are  the  most 
important  trees  of  the  lower  grounds.  On  the  higher  the 
Spanish  chestnut  and  even  the  beech  appear,  while  still 
higher,  especially  in  the  northern  part  of  the  region,  any  of 
the  more  famihar  conifers  may  occur,  e.g.  larch,  spruce, 
Scots  pine,  and  so  forth. 

Extensive  tracts  of  forest  are  not  very  common  in  easily 
accessible  parts  of  the  Mediterranean  region,  but  at  the 
eastern  end  of  the  P}Trenees,  e.g.  near  Perpignan  and  also  on 
the  Spanish  side  of  the  border,  there  are  considerable  forests 
of  holm  oak  and  also  of  cork  oak.  In  these  woods  there  grow 
a  considerable  number  of  shrubs,  mostly  of  wide  distribution 
in  the  Mediterranean  region,  and  therefore  to  be  found  round 
most  of  the  favourite  tourist  resorts.  Of  these  the  following 
may  be  specially  mentioned  :  Christ's  thorn  (Paliurus)  is  a 
favourite  hedge  plant ;  it  occurs,  for  example,  abundantly 
above  Riva  on  Lake  Garda.  PaHurus  may  be  recognised 
by  the  mcked-looking  double  thorns  at  the  base  of  the 
leaves  and  the  curious  flat  disk-like  fruits.  Related  is  the 
evergreen  buckthorn  (Rhamnus).  with  leathery  leaves  and  red 
berries,  turning  black  as  they  ripen.  A  plant  rather  Uke 
olive,  which  is  common  in  the  oak-woods  as  well  as  in  the 
maquis,  is  Phillyrea,  a  shrub  with  narrow  leaves  and  in- 
conspicuous flowers.  Very  common,  especially  in  Spain 
and  Portugal,  is  the  Kermes  oak,  which,  it  is  interesting 
to  notice,  sometimes  attains  to  the  height  of  a  tree,  but 
is.  more  generally  a  low-growing  shrub.  This  is  not  an 
uncommon  feature  of  Mediterranean  plants,  and  is  one  of 
the  facts  which  suggest  that  the  region  is,  broadly  speaking, 
unfavourable  to  the  growth  of  trees.  An  interesting  analogy 
is  found  in  the  mountain  pine,  which  is  very  abundant  in  the 


88  MYRTLE  AND  BAY 

eastern  Alps,  and  is  generally  a  prostrate,  scrambling  shrub, 
but  at  times  becomes  a  forest  tree.  When  trees  occur  near 
the  forest  Umit  it  is  an  advantage  to  them  to  be  able  to  live 
as  shrubs  when  the  conditions  make  upright  growth 
impossible. 

The  Kermes  oak,  like  so  many  of  the  Mediterranean  plants, 
was  once  important  in  the  hfe  of  the  people.  It  feeds  an 
insect  quite  similar  to  the  cochineal  insect,  from  which  a 
dye  can  be  obtained  used  both  for  colouring  leather  red  and 
for  woollen  fabrics.  A  lacquer  can  also  be  made  from  the 
coloured  substance.  The  great  development  of  the  trade 
in  anihne  dyes  has  made  it  unprofitable  to  extract  the  cochi- 
neal from  the  Kermes,  and  the  trade  has  practically  died  out, 
like  that  in  the  other  great  Mediterranean  dye,  T3rrian  purple. 
It  is,  however,  of  interest  to  emphasise  the  fact  that  the 
Mediterranean  plants  once  yielded  a  number  of  products 
necessary  for  civihsed  hfe,  so  that  in  the  early  days  the 
region  was  self-supporting. 

Two  other  useful  shrubs  of  the  oak  forests  are  species  of 
Pistacia,  of  which  a  third  species  yields  pistachio  nuts.  The 
two  named  are  Pistacia  lentiscus,  the  mastic  tree  (Fig.  6,  p.  61) 
and  the  terebinth  or  turpentine  tree.  The  former  is  excess- 
ively common.  It  has  pinnate  leaves,  with  no  terminal 
leaflet,  is  strongly  resinous  in  smell,  and  the  unopened  pollen- 
bearing  flowers  are  bright  red  in  spring  and  contrast  vividly 
with  the  green  leaves.  The  female  flowers  grow  on  a  different 
plant,  and  are  inconspicuous,  though  the  ripe  fruit  forms  a 
red  or  black  berry.  The  plant  yields  mastic,  obtained 
especially  from  the  island  of  Chios.  It  is  worth  note  that 
though  generally  seen  as  a  shrub  it  is  capable  of  growing  to 
the  size  of  a  tree. 

The  turpentine  tree  is  deciduous,  and  its  shiny  leaves  have 
an  odd  leaflet  at  the  end,  making  them  resemble  a  small 
ash  leaf.  The  fruit  is  the  size  of  a  pea  and  is  red.  Cyprus 
turpentine  is  obtained  from  the  tree,  which  predominates 


FLOWERING  SHRUBS 


89 


in  the  eastern  Mediterranean,  but  this  is  of  little  commercial 
importance  as  compared  with  the  product  obtained  from  the 
maritime  pine,  especially  in  France,  this  being  another 
illustration  of  the  tendency  for  true  Mediterranean  products 
to  lose  ground  before  those  of  higher  latitudes. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  Cistuses  (Fig.  7).  whose  large 
white,  yellow  or 
pink  flowers  re- 
semble superfici- 
ally those  of  the 
wild  rose.  The 
plants  are  gener- 
ally        strongly 

resinous,  and  have  their  leaves  care 
fully  protected   against   drought   by 
hairs,  by  the  habit  of  inturning  the 
edges,  and  in  other  ways. 

Other  curious  forms  are  the  ever- 
lastings (Hehchrysum),  of  which  one 
species  forms  a  densely-branched, 
grey  shrub  with  a  powerful  smell, 
described  by  Strasburger  as  being 
like  wormwood  and  Uquorice  mixed. 
In  summer  the  plants  bear  their 
drought-resisting,  and  therefore '  ever- 
lasting," flowers  in  dense  masses. 
Various  kinds  of  brooms  are  common, 
especially  the  Spanish  broom  (Spar- 
tium),  from  which  a  fibre  is  obtained, 
used  in  making  rope  and  even  a 
coarse  kind  of  cloth  (Dalmatia),  with 
its     almost     naked     branches     and 

terminal  bunches  of  yellow  flowers.  We  have  already  men- 
tioned the  rosemary  and  lavender  bushes,  and  thyme  also 
occurs.    Through  the  bushes  twines  a  slender  asparagus,  and 


Fig.  10.— The  Rough  Smilax 
(Sr.iilax  aspcra),  a  prickly 
creei)er  common  iu  the 
Mediterranean  region. 


90  MYRTLE  AND  BAY 

the  coarsely-spinous  true  Smilax  (Fig.  10),  not  the  misnamed 
plant  of  our  greenhouses,  scrambles  over  ground  and  bushes 
alike,  with  its  heavy  load  of  dull  red  berries  at  the  end  of 
the  branches.  Its  relative,  our  butcher's  broom,  is  also 
common,  and  the  strongly  scented  jasmine  occurs,  if  some- 
what rarely.  The  trees  and  bushes  found  in -the  cork  oak 
forest  are  similar  to,  but  not  quite  identical  with,  those  found 
in  the  holm  oak  forest.  In  each  case  we  have  a  'plant  associa- 
tion with  a  dominant  species  and  associated  forms. 

Where  the  forest  trees  are  absent  and  the  ground  is  covered 
only  with  shrubs  and  herbs,  we  have,  as  already  stated,  the 
typical  maquis,  ItaUan  macchia,  which  is  still  to  be  found 
in  parts  of  the  Riviera,  and  is  especially  well  developed  in 
Corsica.  All  the  shrubs  we  have  mentioned  reappear  in  the 
maquis,  and  with  them  arbutus,  myrtle,  the  evergreen  oak 
as  a  shrub,  the  wild  olive,  many  kinds  of  bush  spurges,  the 
tree  heath,  near  streams  the  beautiful  oleander,  a  number 
of  brooms  and  their  alhes,  some  very  spiny,  with  many 
herbaceous  plants.  All  these,  however,  need  not  be  expected 
in  a  particular  area  of  maquis,  for  in  the  maquis  formation  a 
considerable  number  of  associations  occur  (cf.  p.  67). 

In  its  fully  developed  form  the  maquis  is  an  almost  impene- 
trable thicket,  the  numerous  spines  and  thorns  together  with 
the  powerful  resins  and  tannins  being  a  protection  against 
the  attacks  of  goats. 

Where  it  thins  out  owing  to  the  poor  and  rocky  soil  we  find 
the  bushes  relatively  few  in  number,  though  not  differing 
greatly  in  kind,  and  so  scattered  that  the  bare  rock  appears 
between  ;  this  is  the  garigue  (Plates  VIII.  and  IX.).  In  spring 
the  ground  is  more  or  less  carpeted  with  short-lived  plants, 
among  which  we  may  mention  asphodel,  bell  hyacinth,  orchids, 
vetches,  cyclamens  (flowering  earher  than  the  others),  flax, 
blue  pimpernel,  various  kinds  of  convolvulus,  both  in  bush 
and  creeping  forms,  and  so  forth,  the  hst  being  taken  from 
notes  of  a  spring  walk  at  Capri.     In  this  limestone  island 


I'l.ATK  \n[ 


A  slope  on  tlie  island  of  Capri.  The  terracing  is  very 
characteristic  of  tlie  ^Mediterranean  region.  The  trees  are 
olives.  Note  also  the  prickly  pears,  the  thin  soil,  with 
outcropping  limestone  rock.  The  plants  mentioned  on 
J).  !)0  were  growing  on  this  slope. 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN  PALM  91 

characteristic  garigues  may  be  easily  observed,  and  there 
are  still,  high  up  on  the  hraestone  cUff,  and  therefore,  it  is 
to  be  hoped,  safe  from  the  most  energetic  tourist,  a  few 
specimens  left  of  the  dwarf  Mediterranean  palm.  This  is 
the  only  member  of  the  palm  family  which  is  native  to  the 
Mediterranean  region,  and  it  is  now  largely  exterminated. 

With  these  notes  and  with  the  help  of  the  books  mentioned 
on  p.  96,  it  should  be  possible  to  get  a  general  idea  of  the 
chief  characters  of  the  native  Mediterranean  plants.  But  we 
must  note  that  almost  all  the  plants  named  have  to  be  sought 
on  more  or  less  uncultivated  ground,  and  are  therefore  only 
seen  by  energetic  tourists  with  some  interest  in  botany  and 
3ome  technical  knowledge.  The  traveller  who  most  often 
dnves,  or  confines  himself  to  parks,  gardens  and  promenades 
would  not  regard  any  of  them  as  characteristic.  Indeed, 
generally  speaking,  the  student  of  native  Mediterranean 
plants  requires  more  perseverance  and  endurance  than  he 
whose  interests  lie  in  the  direction  of  '  alpines.'  In  the 
region  generally  the  cultivated  crops  are,  as  a  rule,  so  valuable 
that  they  must  be  carefully  protected  against  intrusion,  and 
as  open  pastures  are  rare,  and  the  uncultivated  ground 
generally  very  rough  and  inaccessible,  a  good  deal  of  zeal  is 
required  to  carry  on  extended  observations.  In  the  more 
popular  resorts,  however,  there  is  often  an  extraordinary 
wealth  of  cultivated  trees  and  shrubs,  and  those  who  have 
not  the  energy  or  the  opportunity  for  extensive  wandering 
may  glean  much  of  interest  from  a  study  of  these. 

The  great  difficulty  in  regard  to  them  is  that  it  is  often 
difficult  to  obtain  specimens  or  to  find  out  the  names  even 
when  specimens  are  obtained.  Many  botanists  of  modern 
type  would  say  that  the  name  is  of  small  consequence.  No 
doubt  this  is  true,  but  there  is  a  certain  inconvenience  in 
calling  a  plant  '  the  beautiful  purple  flower  that  we  saw  in 
the  garden  of  the  new  villa  at  the  corner  of  the  street.'  Not 
only  is  the  length  a  disadvantage,  as  compared  even  with 


92  MYRTLE  AND  BAY 

a  very  barbarous  Latin  name,  but  also  the  number  of  people 
with  whom  one  can  discuss  a  plant  so  named  necessarily 
remains  strictly  hmited. 

In  these  circumstances  Strasburger's  book  mentioned  at 
the  end  of  the  chapter  is  of  great  assistance,  and  the  prudent 
traveller  will  not  omit  such  sources  of  information  as  botanic 
gardens,  notably  the  ancient  one  at  Padua  and  the  other  at 
Montpellier,  and  the  labels  or  the  attentive  gardeners  at  the 
great  show  places,  e.g.  at  the  Hanbury  garden  at  La  Mortola, 
those  on  Isola  Bella  and  Isola  Madre  on  Lake  Maggiore,  the 
somewhat  disappointing  Villa  Pallavicini  at  PegU  near 
Genoa,  and  so  forth.  The  flower  market  also  at  any  of  the 
great  resorts  is  always  worth  a  visit,  and  many  interesting 
specimens  can  be  picked  up  there.  For  wild  plants,  of  course 
a  flora  is  the  most  useful  aid. 

We  cannot  mention  here  a  tithe  of  the  common  cultivated 
plants  of  the  Mediterranean  health  resorts,  but  a  few  of  the 
most  familiar  may  be  named.  In  the  Riviera  towns  the 
so-called  pepper  tree,  with  ash-shaped  leaves  and  clusters 
of  red  peppery  berries  is  almost  the  commonest  street  tree. 
It  comes  from  South  America  and  contains  an  astringent 
resin  in  large  amounts.  If  the  leaves  are  soaked  in  water 
they  appear  to  wriggle  about  owing  to  the  way  in  which 
this  resin  pours  out.  Palms  are  so  abundant  that  they  are 
generally  associated  with  the  region,  the  date  palm,  with  its 
huge  pinnate  leaves  being  specially  common  ;  only  the  dwarf 
palm  is,  however,  native,  all  the  others  are  introduced.  The 
oranges  and  their  allies,  the  agrumi,  as  they  are  called  in 
Italy,  are  also  not  native,  and  in  Italy  generally,  despite 
Goethe,  the  orange  has  a  distinctly  hmited  distribution. 
Even  in  the  vicinity  of  Naples  the  trees  require  protection 
in  winter.  The  two  other  trees  of  Mignon's  song  are  native, 
but  the  noble  laurel,  the  Lorbeer  of  ecstatic  German  tourists, 
owes  its  abundance  to  the  fact  that  it  is  extensively  planted. 
As  a  native  plant  it  is  not  common.     Parenthetically  one  may 


PLATE  IS. 


A  limestone  clirt"  on  the  island  of  t'apri  ;  a  few  of  the  plants 
of  the  KariiTue  manage  to  li\e  in  the  interstices  of  tlie  rock. 


SWEET  BAY 


93 


remark  that  though  it  is  a  handsome  shrub,  with  its  scented 
leaves  and  the  whitish  flowers  sometimes  present  on  the  same 
twig  as  the  fine  purple  fi'uits  (Fig.  11),  yet  the  tourist  is  scarcely 


¥10.  11.— Sweet  Ba}-  or  Noble  Laurel,  showing 
flowers  anil  fruit  on  the  same  spra^^. 

justified  in  bursting  into  song  —  at  least  in  pubUc  places — 
on  the  first  sight  of  it  in  its  Mediterranean  glory.  It  should 
be  taken  for  granted  that  all  civiUsed  people  do  '  know  the 
land '  and  have  no  desire  to  have  the  question  put  to  them, 


94 


MYETLE  AND  BAY 


as  has  happened  several  times  to  the  writer,  by  casual  travel- 
ling companions  ! 

Among  the  introduced  plants  of  recent  importation,  recent 
that  is  as  compared  with  the  orange,  are  the  splendid  North 
American  agaves,  popularly  called  aloes  (Fig.  1),  which  orna- 
ment every  rocky  surface,  and  bear  huge  seed-spikes,  and  the 
Australian  eucalyptuses  (Fig.  12),  now  very  widely  planted, 

and  of  great  interest 
in  spring,  because  of 
the  way  in  which  the 
curious  cap  falls  off 
the  flowers  and 
allows  the  innumer- 
able fluffy  stamens 
to  expose  themselves 
to  wind  or  insect. 
Eucalyptuses  are 
markedly  drought- 
resisting,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  note 
that  their  leaves 
change  in  character 
as  the  plants  grow 
older,  and  the 
branches  are  thus 
more  fully  exposed 
to  the  sun  and  dry- 
ing wind.  Some  also 
of  the  numerous  acacias  of  the  Riviera  are  of  Austrahan  origin. 
The  acacias  generally  show  some  interesting  adaptations  to 
enable  them  to  withstand  drought,  and  are  worth  careful 
study  on  this  account. 

The  prickly  pears,  which  are  now  so  widely  spread  and  have 
become  wild  almost  everywhere,  are  of  American  origin. 
Their  insipid  fruits  can  be  bought  in  the  markets  as  Indian 


Fig.  12. — Eucalyptus  globuhis,  an  Australian 
tree  very  commonly  planted  in  southern 
Europe,  especiall.y  in  the  Mediterranean 
region.  The  curious  capped  flowers  are 
characteristic,  no  less  than  the  strong  scent. 


COMMON  TOWN  TREES  95 

figs  (fichi  d'lndia),  and  in  summer  time  their  cactus  flowers 
are  seen  on  the  sides  of  the  curious  spiny  '  racquets.'  No 
less  than  the  agaves,  the  prickly  pears  are  drought-resisting  ; 
they  are  indeed  in  origin  desert  plants,  hence  the  way  in 
which  they  have  thriven  in  the  Mediterranean. 

Among  town  trees  in  addition  to  those  mentioned,  one 
should  not  omit  the  nettle  tree  (Celtis)  which  is  abundantly 
planted,  e.g.  in  the  streets  of  Naples,  and  figures  largely  in 
the  hterature  of  Provence,  where  it  is  common.  In  spring 
in  Naples  and  the  vicinity  one  finds  the  tree  leafless  but 
bearing  its  catkin-hke  flowers.  Later  it  becomes  clothed 
with  its  elm-hke  leaves,  easily  recognised  by  the  fact  that 
they  are  unequally  developed  at  the  base,  and  have  one 
side  more  toothed  than  the  other.  The  little  fruits  hang 
down  singly  from  the  branches,  and  are  at  first  green,  and 
later  become  brownish  black.  They  are  about  the  size  of 
a  small  cherry,  and  are  sweet  to  the  taste  when  mature. 
They  are  eaten  in  Spain,  where  the  tree  is  much  planted, 
and  also  in  Greece,  where  they  were  well  known  to  the 
ancients.  The  tree  is  native  to  the  Mediterranean  region, 
but  owes  its  present  abundance  to  planting.  It  extends 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  area,  but  only  there  reaches  a  great 
size. 

Much  more  beautiful  are  the  species  of  Catalpa,  with 
large  dehcate  leaves,  white,  sweet-scented  flowers,  and  later 
long,  hanging  pods.  They  are  very  favourite  garden  trees 
in  the  moister  regions  of  the  Mediterranean  and  in  the  more 
sheltered  parts  of  Central  Europe,  and  may  be  seen  at  their 
best  on  Lake  Maggiore.  Somewhat  similar  in  appearance 
is  the  splendid  Paulownia,  the  only  tree  in  the  snapdragon 
family,  which,  as  a  tour  de  force,  has  been  made  to  grow  in 
Scotland,  and  is  abundant  in  Paris,  but  is  most  at  home  in 
regions  at  once  warm  and  fairly  moist,  and  without  much 
wind.  There  are  some  beautiful  specimens  in  Lisbon,  where 
the  great  masses  of  purple  flowers  can  be  seen  in  early  spring, 


96  MYRTLE  AND  BAY 

opening  before  the  leaves.  The  fruits  are  a  very  curious 
and  decorative  kind  of  capsule  which  spUt  to  allow  the  small 
winged  seeds  to  escape,  and  are  sticky  to  the  touch.  The 
tree  is  a  native  of  Japan  and  is  not  drought-resisting  in 
summer,  so  that  it  can  only  be  grown  in  the  damp  parts 
of  the  Mediterranean  region.  Another  beautiful  flowering 
tree  often  grown  in  towns  is  Sophora,  a  graceful  pinnate- 
leafed  form  which  produces  its  bunches  of  greenish-white 
flowers  in  July  or  August,  and  belongs  to  the  same  family 
as  the  laburnum.  It  is  one  of  the  ornaments  of,  for  example, 
the  streets  of  Genoa,  and  is  also  abundant  in  Geneva,  so  that 
it  is  not  exclusively  Mediterranean.  The  pods  are  jointed 
and  are  abundantly  produced.  We  must  also  mention  the 
Judas  tree,  which  often  occurs  as  a  shrub,  its  dull  crimson 
flowers,  '  reddened  with  the  betrayer "s  blood,'  forming  sheets 
of  bloom  on  the  hillsides  near  the  railway  between  Naples  and 
Rome  in  spring,  but  it  also  in  places  grows  to  the  size  of 
a  large  tree.  In  Lisbon,  for  example,  it  is  extensively  planted, 
and  travellers  who,  on  their  way  to  or  from  Geneva,  have  to 
change  trains  at  Culoz  will  notice  a  very  fine  specimen  near 
the  railway  station.  The  Judas  tree  is  easily  recognised  by 
its  rounded,  heart-shaped  leaves,  unusual  in  a  member  of  the 
peaflower  family,  and  by  the  way  the  flowers  seem  to  burst 
from  the  bark  of  the  twigs.  The  pods  are  not  dissimilar  to 
those  of  the  laburnum.  Finally,  we  must  note  that  as  the 
conifers  are  drought-resisting,  the  more  dehcate  forms  are 
very  extensively  planted  in  the  region,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  being  the  Norfolk  Island  pine,  a  curious  species 
of  Araucaria,  which  forms  a  noble  tree  of  striking  appearance, 
and  then  presents  httle  resemblance  to  the  pot  plants  common 
in  conservatories  here. 

Refeeences.  Of  the  numerous  books  on  the  flora  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, relatively  few  are  in  the  English  language.  Very  useful 
is  Strasburger's  book,  translated  as  Rambles  on  the  Riviera.  It  can 
sometimes  be  picked  up  second-hand,  and  its  illustrations  are  very 


REFERENCES  97 

helpful.  Some  of  those  given  here  are  based  in  fact  upon  them. 
More  recent  is  Alban  Voigt's  Die.  Riviera  in  Junk's  Natur-Fiihrer, 
an  inexpensive  and  handy  volume,  giving  many  details  in  regard 
to  the  commoner  plants,  native  and  cultivated.  A  general  account 
of  Mediterranean  vegetation  will  be  found  in  Schiiiiper's  Plant 
Geography.  For  the  travolkr  in  the  region  a  general  book  on  plants 
is  useful  owing  to  the  number  of  introduced  trees  and  shrubs ; 
the  two  volumes  of  a  small  old-fashioned  book  called  The  Treasury 
of  Botany,  edited  by  Lindley  and  Moore,  will  be  found  of  great  value. 
Much  more  modern  but  less  complete  is  Willis's  Flowering  Plants  and 
Ferns  in  the  Cambridge  Natural  Science  Manuals.  A  Flora  is  necessary, 
and  it  is  advisable  to  take  Bentham  and  Hooker's  British  Flora  for 
the  numerous  incidental  notes  on  exotic  plants,  and  the  excellent  tables 
for  identifjang  the  common  orders.  Bonnier  and  Layens'  Flore  Com- 
plete de  la  France,  an  inexpensive  book,  contains  brief  descriptions  of 
most  of  the  Mediterranean  plants. 

Among  other  foreign  books,  mention  may  be  made  of  Philippson'a 
Das  Mittelmeergehiet,  with  a  general  account  of  the  region ;  of  Maxi- 
mihen  Sorre's  Les  Pyrenees  Mediterraneennes,  with  excellent  descrip- 
tions of  the  vegetation  of  evergreen  oak-woods ;  and  of  Willkomm's 
Orundziige  der  PJlanzenverbreitung  auf  der  iberischen  Halbinsel  in 
Engler  und  Drude's  series  called  Die  Vegetation  der  Erde.  Many  of 
these  give  references  to  books  suitable  for  further  reading. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MEADOW,   WOOD,   AND   PASTURE   IN  THE   ALPS 

'  Where  woods  and  winds  contend.' 

In  very  sharp  contrast  to  the  plant  formations  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean area  are  the  woods  and  pastures  of  the  Alps.  Not 
only  are  the  kinds  of  plants  present  quite  different,  but  the 
Alpine  formations  have  been  on  the  whole  far  less  altered 
by  man.  It  is  also  generally  much  easier  to  make  a  detailed 
study  of  their  constituent  plants  than  of  those  round  the 
tideless  sea,  for  tbey  are  for  the  most  part  above  the  level 
where  cultivation  can  be  carried  on,  and  the  methods  of  soil 
utihsation  employed  rarely  interfere  with  free  access  on  the 
part  of  the  general  traveller. 

A  point  of  resemblance  between  the  two  types  is  that  since 
in  both  cases  the  plant  formations  closely  reflect  the  characters 
of  climate  and  surface,  both  are  associated  with  well-defined 
types  of  human  society.  In  not  a  few  places,  as  on  the  Riviera, 
at  the  eastern  end  of  the  Pyrenees,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
main  Alpine  chain,  especially  to  the  east— the  Mediterranean 
and  mountain  plant  formations  approach  one  another  closely, 
and  in  these  regions  we  have  the  contrast  between  two  social 
types  at  its  sharpest.  To  a  certain  extent  at  least  there  is 
even  a  contrast  in  race  between  mountain  and  Mediterranean 
folk,  and  much  of  the  history  of  the  two  regions  is  due  to  the 
existence  of  a  Une  of  contact  between  two  types  of  vegetation, 
two  modes  of  human  life,  two  races  of  men,  the  hne  of  contact 
stretching  almost  through  the  breadth  of  Europe  in  our 
sense. 


THE  FIR-WOODS  99 

Mountain  vegetation,  no  less  than  that  of  the  Mediterranean, 
has  been  the  object  of  innumerable  investigations,  the  reasons 
being  in  part  the  same  in  the  two  cases,  for  both  are  markedly 
tourist  regions.  Indeed  a  complete  list  of  pubUshed  memoirs 
would  be  even  longer  in  the  case  of  the  Alps  than  in  that  of 
the  southern  area,  for  the  Alps  and  other  mountains  are 
chiefly  visited  in  the  summer  season,  when  even  the  busiest 
have  some  leisure,  and,  for  the  energetic  northern  folk,  they 
are  also  wathin  easier  reach.  The  result  is  that  both  the 
study  of  the  region  as  a  whole  and  that  of  special  areas  has 
been  carried  to  a  high  pitch,  and  many  refinements  of  termin- 
ology have  been  introduced.  We  shall  Hmit  ourselves  here 
to  a  mere  outhne  of  results,  laying  stress  on  those  facts  which 
can  be  observed  by  the  casual  visitor  to  the  Alps.  Though 
the  description  is  based  upon  the  Alps,  it  is  generally  apph- 
cable  to  the  other  mountain  regions  of  Europe.  The  special 
characters  of  the  different  chains  are  beyond  our  scope. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  in  Switzerland  deciduous 
forests  have  a  somewhat  Umited  distribution,  and  the  country 
generally  lies  well  to  the  east  of  the  Atlantic,  so  that  the 
summer  heat  tends  to  be  great  (cf.  p.  49).  The  result  is  that 
most  of  the  tourist  resorts,  except  those  on  the  lakes,  he  in 
the  belt  of  coniferous  woods.  The  higher  ones  he  often  near 
the  upper  margin  of  the  woods,  as  for  example  Arolla,  and, 
we  may  add,  the  Rifielalp,  though  this  is  but  a  dependence 
of  Zermatt.  More  generally  the  village  \vith  its  huge  hotels 
hes  in  a  little  basin,  from  which  rise  on  all  sides  steep  banks 
with  dark  fir- woods.  The  result  is  that  all  the  cUmbs  and  the 
longer  walks  lead  steeply  up  through  the  woods,  and  beyond 
them  to  grassy  shelves  and  slopes.  Those  who  know  the 
Alps  at  all  have  only  to  shut  their  eyes  to  see  again  the  steep 
winding  path,  to  feel  the  scent  of  the  resinous  firs  and  pines, 
to  catch  glimpses  of  the  great  snow  peaks  through  the  clear- 
ings in  the  wood,  to  hear  the  plashing  stream,  to  picture  the 
rocks  and  undergrowth,  the  open  spaces  where  the  straw- 


100    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTURE  IN  ALPS 

berries  grow,  the  brooding  silence  and  mystery  which  to  the 
imaginative  people  the  glades  with  a  whole  population  of 
nymphs  and  dryads,  of  fairy,  fabulous  monster  and  witch. 
There  are  days  too  when  the  chill  mist  hes  heavy  in  the 
vallev,  and  one  chmbs  painfully  up  the  shmy  path,  beneath 
the  steady  drip  of  the  tall  trees,  with  the  feeling  of  oppression 
ever  gro^ving  deeper  till  the  wood  and  the  mist  seem  to  thin 
simultaneously,  and  one  passes  in  a  moment  from  the  dank 
gloom  to  the  open,  to  see  faint  ghosts  of  mountains  appearing. 
A  few  steps  more,  and  one  is  out  upon  the  alp  and  into  the 
sunshine,  surrounded  by  a  sea  of  snow-clad  peaks  which 
have  no  contact  with  base  earth,  but  rise,  hke  saint  or  Madonna, 
from  the  level  sheet  of  cloud  which  conceals  the  whole  valley 
from  view.  Such  an  experience — and  it  is  no  infrequent  one 
— enables  the  traveller  to  appreciate  to  the  full  the  contrast 
between  the  two  great  plant  formations  of  the  Alps — the 
coniferous  wood  and  the  alpine  pasturage. 

Often,  as  we  have  just  said,  the  contrast  between  wood 
and  alp  is  sudden  and  striking.  There  is  not  only  a  change 
in  the  vegetation  but  also  in  the  slope  and  the  nature  of  the 
surface,  and  the  fact  that  the  alp  has  almost  always  a  cluster 
of  cheese-making  sheds  or  chalets,  often,  at  least  in  Switzer- 
land, accompanied  by  a  httle  inn,  while  the  wood  is  without 
sign  of  human  life,  accentuates  the  contrast.  '  The  place 
where  we  had  our  lunch  '  is  always  for  the  mountain  traveller 
an  area  of  great  significance,  and  if  the  geographer  expresses 
the  matter  in  more  stilted  phrase,  what  he  means  funda- 
mentally when  he  says  that  the  forest  repels  settlement  is 
that  the  alp  is  a  more  suitable  place  to  sleep  or  feed  in  than 
the  damp  wood. 

In  other  cases  the  contrast  is  less  sharp  (Plate  X.).  One 
mounts  through  the  wood  and  finds  the  tall  firs  and  pines 
giving  way  to  prostrate  mountain  pine  mingled  with  green 
alder  ;  still  higher  this  belt  again  perhaps  yields  to  one  where 
the  mountain  pines  are  few,  and  great  masses  of  alpine  rhodo- 


PLATE  X 


Near  the  tree  limit  on  I^It.  Revanl,  above  Aix-les-Bains. 
The  upper  slopes  form  pastures,  or  alps. 


ALPINE  ROSE  AND  COLUMBINE  101 

dendron  expose  their  bright  flowers  and  rusty  leaves.  Or, 
again,  the  trees  separate  from  one  another,  and  rise  from  a  sea 
of  berry-bearing  bushes,  such  as  blaeberry  or  cowberry ;  or,  yet 
again,  the  valley  becomes  rocky  and  difficult,  and  the  vegeta- 
tion is  represented  by  scattered  bushes  and  tall  herbaceous 
plants,  such  as  the  magnificent  Pyrenean  columbine,  which 
raises  its  beautiful  blue  flowers  and  luxuriant  fern-like  leaves 
at  the  side  of  the  trickling  streams,  in  company  with  rank- 
growing  composites,  hke  blue  alpine  lettuce  and  the  pink 
Adenostyles.  In  such  cases,  though  the  contrast  between  the 
climb  up  the  valley  and  the  open  alp  at  the  top  remains  vivid, 
the  Umit  of  the  wood  is  much  less  clearly  defined.  According 
to  many  botanists,  the  upper  limit  of  the  wood  has  in  such 
places  been  shifted  downwards,  either  by  human  or  natural 
agency,  or  by  both  in  combination,  and  the  zone  of  bushes  is 
the  equivalent  of  the  Mediterranean  maquis,  that  is,  it  repre- 
sents a  belt  which  has  been  once  covered  with  trees,  and 
could  possibly  be  again  afforested.  Again,  that  is  to  say,  we 
find  that  where  trees  are  approaching  their  natural  hmit  very 
little  interference  will  turn  the  balance  against  them,  but  when 
they  disappear  their  accompanying  undergrowth  persists. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  at  the  margin  of  the  Alpine 
wood,  as  in  the  Mediterranean  region,  the  goat  is  a  great 
forest  destroyer.  In  the  Alps  goats  are  kept  in  large  numbers 
as  milk  producers,  and  as  the  richer  pastures  are  reserved 
for  the  more  valuable  and  more  fastidious  cows,  the  goats 
must  pick  up  a  living  where  they  may,  and  as  they  destroy 
seedUngs  and  young  conifers,  as  well  as  nibbling  the  bushes, 
they  serve  to  prevent  natural  regeneration.  Nor  are  their 
owners  averse  to  extending,  where  they  can,  their  pasturages 
at  the  expense  of  the  wood.  Many  investigators  believe  that 
the  presence  of  alpine  rhododendron  at  a  particular  spot 
means  that  forest  was  once  present  here. 

The  elevation  at  which  tree  growth  ceases  in  the  Alps  has 
been  the  subject  of  numerous  investigations.     It  varies  very 


102    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTURE  IN  ALPS 

greatly  with  exposure,  the  nature  of  the  soil,  the  latitude, 
and  the  nature  of  the  mountain  region  considered,  for  isolated 
mountains  have  a  lower  tree  hmit  than  those  which  occur  in 
groups.  The  subject  need  not  detain  us  here,  though  it  is 
a  point  upon  which  it  is  always  interesting  to  make  observa- 
tions when  visiting  the  Alps.  It  will  be  noted  then  that  in 
the  case  of  valleys  running  east  and  west  the  limit  is  very 
different  on  the  two  sides.  That  side  which  faces  south 
should  have  a  higher  hmit  than  that  facing  north,  but  in 
point  of  fact  one  often  finds  that  the  side  with  the  southern 
exposure  is  bare  of  trees,  because  it  is  sufficiently  warm  for 
cultivation  to  be  carried  on  at  a  great  elevation,  while  the 
other,  colder  side,  is  clothed  with  trees.  The  Romanche 
valley,  near  the  village  of  La  Grave  (Plates  XL  and  XIL),  is  a 
very  striking  example,  but  the  phenomenon  is  common  in 
both  the  Alps  and  the  Pyrenees,  and  in  many  places  the  local 
dialect  contains  two — quite  untranslatable — words,  of  which 
the  one  is  apphed  to  the  side  of  the  valley  facing  the  sun 
which  is  cultivated,  and  has  practically  all  the  habitations 
of  the  district,  while  the  other  is  applied  to  the  wooded, 
uninhabited,  uncultivated  and  chilly,  shaded  side.  The  land 
on  the  two  sides  of  the  valley  has,  naturally  enough,  quite  a 
different  economic  value. 

The  number  of  kinds  of  trees  in  the  coniferous  woods  of 
the  Alps  is  small.  The  most  widely  distributed,  especially 
at  the  lower  levels,  is  the  spruce,  whose  heavy  foliage  and 
hanging  cones  are  familiar  to  all  travellers  in  the  region. 
Our  Scots  pine,  sometimes  in  a  special  variety  {e.g.  in  the 
Engadine),  occurs,  but  rarely  predominates,  over  large  areas. 
The  larch  is  frequent  towards  the  tree  limit,  and  in  parts  of 
Switzerland  and  in  the  eastern  Alps  the  beautiful  Cembran 
or  Arolla  pine  (see  Frontispiece),  with  its  edible  seeds  and 
clustered  needles,  occurs.  Where  it  is  found  it  generally  gives 
rise  to  a  wood-carving  or  furniture-making  industry  {e.g.  in 
the  Grodnertal),  as  its  soft  wood  is  easily  carved. 


I'LATK  XI 


The  sontliwanl-facing  slojic  of  tlie  Komanchc  vallov  mar  l.a  (.rave. 
This  slope  has  heen  completely  deforested,  and  the  consequent 
deep  ravining  of  tlie  land  is  well  shown.  The  soil  is  cultivated 
where  possible,  and  the  presence  of  the  villages  should  be  noted. 
The  opposite  slope,  facing  north,  has  practically  no  houses,  and 
is  forest-clad. 


BERRY-BEARING  SHRUBS  103 

A  very  interesting  species  is  the  prostrate  mountain  pine, 
which  is  absent  in  most  parts  of  Switzerland  (though  present 
in  the  Engadine),  but  in  the  eastern  Alps  forms  a  zone 
above  the  woods  proper.  It  can  grow  upright  as  a  forest 
tree,  and  does  this,  for  example,  in  the  Pyrenees  and  parts 
of  the  Alps,  but  the  curious  prostrate  variety  forms  a  dense 
mass  of  interlacing  branches,  lying  along  the  surface,  and 
thus  resistant  ahke  to  wind  and  snow,  but  forming  an  almost 
insuperable  barrier  to  human  progress,  as  any  one  who  has 
scrambled  down  a  steep  slope  clothed  with  the  tree  will 
testify.  Mingled  with  the  prostrate  pine,  as  already  stated, 
bushes  of  green  alder  occur,  and  both  are  of  great  importance 
in  preventing  landshps  on  very  steep  slopes,  owing  to  the 
way  in  which  they  bind  the  surface. 

In  the  woods  grow  many  interesting  plants,  especially  the 
berry-bearing  shrubs  common  on  moors  in  our  own  country. 
Their  fruit  is  but  little  used  in  Switzerland,  or  at  least  is  rarely 
found  on  hotel  menus.  In  Tyrol,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
plant  which  we  call  cowberry  yields  the  preisselbeere,  which 
appear  so  frequently  in  the  form  of  compote  as  an  accompani- 
ment to  many  meat  dishes.  Such  dishes  recommend  them- 
selves strongly  to  persons  of  an  economical  temperament, 
for  the  one  order  supphes  both  meat  and  pudding  !  The 
compote  has  the  further  recommendation  that  it  is  usually 
composed  of  fresh  fruit,  whereas  the  others  which  make  such 
a  noble  show  on  the  card  in  mountain  inns  generally  turned 
out  to  be  parboiled  bottled  fruits,  whose  apparent  variety 
is  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  fact  that  they  all  taste 
exactly  ahke,  and  this  taste  is  chiefly  negative — one  feels 
that  a  duster,  if  boiled  long  enough,  would  acquire  a  similar 
nothingness. 

Less  famihar  to  us  than  the  species  of  Vaccinum.  hke  cow- 
berry and  blaeberry,  are  the  shrubby  honeysuckles,  of  which 
there  are  several  lands,  and  their  ally,  the  interesting  httle 
LinncBa  horealis.    This  is  an  inhabitant  of  Northern  Europe, 


104    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTURE  IN  ALPS 

whose  presence  in  a  few  localities  in  Scotland  and  northern 
England  and  in  parts  of  the  Alps  is  a  result  of  the  Ice  Age. 
In  Switzerland  the  plant  is  rare  and  local,  and  there  is  an 
entertaining  story  of  a  royal  personage  with  botanical  tastes 
who,  in  the  course  of  an  elaborate  tour  through  the  Alps, 
proposed  to  conduct  a  personal  search  for  the  plant.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  the  major  domo  knew  his  duty,  and  the 
plant  was  carefully  inserted  in  advance  in  a  spot  where  the 
royal  lady  could  find  it  without  damage  to  garments  or 
temper.  In  the  eastern  Alps  it  seems  to  be  not  uncommon  ; 
not  far  from  Solden  in  the  Oetztal,  for  example,  one  may  find 
its  slender  traiUng  stems  with  their  evergreen  leaves  making 
a  carpet  through  the  fir-woods,  and  producing  in  July  a 
profusion  of  the  dehcate  pinkish- white  twin  bells,  which 
droop  so  that  the  pollen  is  not  damaged  by  rain. 

Junipers  are  also  common  in  the  woods,  and,  where  the 
canopy  is  more  open,  there  are  splendid  patches  of  flowering 
plants  :  the  taller  gentians,  monkshood,  mountain  arnica, 
lihes  and  orchids,  the  quaint  httle  wintergreens  (Pyrola), 
pink  Saponaria  and  white  Silenes,  speedwells  and  many  other 
plants,  some  famihar  and  some  strange,  but  not  for  the  most 
part  showing  any  great  contrast  in  form  to  our  woodland 
flowers. 

Where  the  upper  margin  of  the  wood  is  fringed  by  a  belt 
of  bush,  many  of  the  plants  of  our  drier  moors  and  heaths 
reappear,  with  some  strangers.  Thus  the  two  kinds  of  blae- 
berry, cowberry,  cranberry,  bearberry,  and  so  forth,  are  very 
familiar ;  the  mountain  azalea  is  not  a  very  uncommon 
plant  of  Scottish  moors,  but  the  two  kinds  of  Alpine  rose  or 
rhododendron  and  the  abundance  of  the  mezereon,  bearing 
its  bright  red  berries  in  summer,  are  features  novel  to  the 
botanist  from  Great  Britain.  In  the  bush  region,  or  in  the 
more  open  parts  of  the  woods,  we  may  find  great  sheets  of 
Dryas  octopetala,  another  refic  of  the  Ice  Age,  not  uncommon 
in  northern  Scotland,  and  parts  of  Ireland  and  N.  England, 


PLATE  XII 


Another  view  in  the  Romanclie  ^'alley,  near  La  Grave,  showing 
how  the  ravining  due  to  deforestation  is  encroaching  upon  the 
cultivated  lands.     Cf.  Plate  XI. 


ALPINE  PASTURES  105 

as  well  as  in  Scandinavia.  It  is  a  small  prostrate  plant  with 
shining  leaves,  woolly  beneath,  white,  rose-like  flowers  and 
feathery  fruits. 

Let  us  turn  next  to  the  pasture  lands,  the  real  glory  of 
the  Alps,  but  only  seen  in  their  splendour  by  the  tourist 
who  can  visit  the  region  in  early  summer.  Rusldn,  true  to 
his  Calvinistic  upbringing,  ascribed  the  fact  that  most 
tourists  visit  the  Alps  in  full  summer,  and  so  miss  the  glories 
of  the  meadows,  to  original  sin  ;  but  most  of  those  who  have 
their  bread  to  earn  find  that  it  is  due  to  causes  beyond  their 
control.  Those  to  whom  an  early  visit  is  possible  may  wel- 
come the  following  note  as  to  dates,  which  is  quoted  from 
Christ's  PJlanzenleben  der  Schweiz  : 

'  Mistakes  are  often  made  as  to  the  time  of  culmination 
of  the  flowering  period  in  the  Alps.  In  full  summer  it  is  only 
the  highest  regions,  those  near  the  snow-line,  which  show 
wholly  unwithered  sheets  of  bloom.  June,  close  following 
upon  the  time  of  the  melting  snow,  is  the  blooming  time  of 
the  lower  and  even  of  the  higher  Alpine  plants,  and  he  who 
has  not  looked  upon  this  living  carpet  in  the  first  freshness 
of  its  youth,  has  no  conception  of  the  splendour  and  extent 
of  this  world  of  bloom.  For  Schynige  Platte,  June  11  ;  for 
Pilatus,  June  18  ;  for  the  Simplon  plateau,  June  20 — these 
are  the  critical  periods,  though  they  may  be  retarded  by  bad 
weather  for  from  eight  to  fourteen  days.  If  you  can  seize 
the  right  moment  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  comparable 
to  this  truly  intoxicating  lovehness.  The  large  flowers, 
standing  close  to  one  another,  actually  conceal  the  lowly, 
small-leaved  plants,  so  that  the  green  is  but  half-seen  through 
the  glowing  colours  of  the  blossoms,  among  which  one  walks 
with  hesitating  steps.  The  tender  rose  of  the  mealy  primrose 
and  of  the  cushion  Silene,  the  cold  white  of  the  anemones, 
the  bright  burning  yellow  of  the  hawkweeds,  the  deep  bur- 
nished copper  of  the  Bartsias,  the  equally  deep  but  fiery  blue 
of  the  gentians  whose  heavy  clusters  cover  the  ground,  and , 


106    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTUKE  IN  ALPS 

above  all,  the  velvety  purple  of  the  fragrant  violet  {Viola 
calcarata),  which  blooms  in  countless  numbers — these  form 
the  chief  tones  in  the  glowing  carpet,  which  is  besprinkled 
with  countless  dewdrops  glittering  like  diamonds.  On  the 
Simplon  to  these  flowers  are  added  the  rare  adornment  of  the 
snow-white  rosettes  of  Senecio  incana,  with  its  orange  flowers, 
the  deep  blood-red  of  the  houseleeks  and  Pedicularis,  the 
purity  of  the  Alpine  hhes  (Paradisia),  the  purple  and  gold  of 
the  alpine  aster,  the  woolly  grey  of  the  edelweiss,  the  deep 
yellow  of  the  Androsace  and  the  blue  of  Eritrichium,  which 
rivals  the  azure  sky  of  the  southern  Alps  in  the  soft  intensity 
of  its  colour.' 

The  traveller  is  fortunate  indeed  who  can  see  this  glory 
in  its  prime,  but  even  the  late  comer,  if  he  be  wilUug  to  chmb, 
may  see  some  traces  of  the  spring  splendour,  and,  if  the 
general  effect  be  less  striking,  he  may  enjoy  a  perhaps  in- 
tenser  pleasure  in  the  detailed  contemplation  of  the  last 
representatives  of  the  bright  band.  Even  in  August  one  may 
find,  at  least  in  a  late  season,  sohtary  bells  of  Soldanella 
unfolding  on  damp  patches  from  which  the  snow  has  just 
cleared,  and  these  deUcate  fringed  cups,  with  their  graceful 
droop  earthward,  are  in  themselves  a  great  joy.  But  in  that 
month  one  must  be  content  with  an  occasional  bloom  of 
primula  and  anemone,  culled  with  care  from  a  waste  of 
feathery  fruits  or  swelhng  capsules — and  seek  consolation  on 
the  lower  ground  in  the  scarlet  of  the  barberry  fruits  and  the 
glorious  orange  of  the  buckthorn  berries  among  the  silver 
fohage — sights  which  the  June  traveller  cannot  hope  to 
enjoy. 

But  where  are  the  splendours  which  Christ  describes  to 
be  sought  by  the  June  traveller  ?  There  are,  broadly  speak- 
ing, two  main  kinds  of  alpine  meadows.  In  the  open  basins 
of  the  valleys,  on  the  gentler  slopes,  within  the  zone  of  the 
fir-woods,  but  in  parts  where  the  wood  does  not  exist  or  has 
been  cleared,  are  to  be  found  the  hay  meadows.    Here  the 


I'LATK  XII  [ 


..3*i^lS*^-'- 


1.     *!  •'^  • 


^'W%%. 


liASIN    WITH    G0R(iE    ABOVE    IX    THE    ^'AL    I)E   KaHNES,   SWITZERLAND. 

Note  the  hamlet  placed  on  the  cone  brought  down  by  the  right- 
hand  stream.  The  surrounding  clearings  are  mat/ens  or  spring 
pasturages,  the  basin  (altitude  nearly  5000  feet)  being  above  the 
limit  of  cultivation. 


THE  MEADOWS  107 

grass  and  flowers  grow  tall ;  here  in  autumn  one  may  see 
the  peasants,  often  the  women,  laboriously  spreading  the 
manure  which  replaces  the  substances  carried  oil'  in  the  hay  ; 
here  in  summer,  in  June,  July,  or  even  August,  according 
to  the  position  and  the  season,  one  sees  the  whole  family 
toihng  in  the  blazing  sun  at  the  hay-making,  or  on  the  days 
of  pouring  rain  the  men  and  women  still  patiently  cutting 
the  grass,  hoping  that  a  bright  to-morrow  may  yet  dawn. 

These  meadows  are  generally  fenced,  either  with  a  perma- 
nent fence  or  with  bars  of  wood  which  can  be  removed  once 
the  precious  crop  is  cut.  Between  the  fences  run  the  narrow 
stony  lanes  which  lead  to  the  chalets,  up  and  down  which 
the  peasants  clatter  in  their  sabots  or  pattens,  and  the  tourists 
and  their  guides  in  their  nailed  boots.  Here  also  one  may  see 
the  patient  donkey,  all  but  concealed  by  the  load  of  hay, 
steadied  on  its  precarious  downward  journey  by  a  ragged 
urchin  who  hangs  to  its  tail.  If  the  path  be  somewhat  less 
narrow  and  less  steep,  one  may  see  that  ingenious  vehicle 
which  is  a  narrow  two-wheeled  cart  on  the  upward  journey, 
and  a  sledge  on  the  downward  one,  the  unused  wheels  running 
behind  the  loaded  sledge  as  it  shps  over  the  cobbles,  polished 
by  the  tread  of  many  feet.  As  he  toils  beneath  the  mid- 
summer sun  the  peasant  has  ever  before  him  the  menace  of 
the  day  when  valley  and  slope  will  be  alike  drowned  in  snow, 
and  his  cherished  hay  is  the  only  means  he  has  of  feeding 
his  beasts.  Therefore  wherever  he  can  reach  the  grass,  and 
wherever  it  can  be  carried  after  cutting,  by  man  or  beast 
or  sledge,  to  his  cattle  sheds,  there  he  makes  hay. 

But  above  the  fir-woods  there  comes  other  pasturages, 
snow-covered  till  late  in  the  season,  yielding  a  dense  growth 
of  nutritious  grass  and  herbs  which  never  reach  a  great  height, 
separated  from  the  valley  below  by  slopes  too  steep  for  the 
carrying  of  the  grass,  even  could  the  short  stocky  growth  be 
cut — these  are  the  upland  pastures,  not  safe  from  a  snow- 
covering  even  in  full  summer,  but  furnishing  abundant  food 


108    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTUKE  IN  ALPS 

to  cattle,  goats,  and  the  fewer  sheep  for  a  longer  or  shorter 
period  of  the  year.  These  are  the  true  alps,  and  here  and 
on  the  rocky  slopes  above  grow  the  most  gorgeous,  the  most 
characteristic  of  the  alpine  flowers,  those  which  only  to  the 
gardener  deserve  the  name  of  alpine,  those  with  the  typically 
large  flowers  which,  as  Christ  says,  seem  to  conceal  the  small 
leaves.  It  is  these  especially  which  in  their  form  and  structure 
show  most  markedly  the  effect  of  the  mountain  habitat. 

Before  speaking  of  a  few  of  the  most  striking  forms,  let  us 
note  in  a  word  or  two  the  relation  of  hay  meadow,  wood,  and 
alp,  as  one  may  see  all  three  in  almost  any  Alpine  valley. 

Let  us  suppose  that,  as  often  happens,  we  are  leaving  one  of 
the  main  valleys  to  travel  up  a  lateral  one.  In  most  cases 
we  find  that  at  first  the  road,  whether  carriage  road  or  mere 
track,  winds  steeply  upwards  through  fir-woods,  generally 
some  distance  from  the  stream,  which  may  be  heard  thunder- 
ing through  a  rocky  gorge  far  below.  If  the  road  be  practi- 
cable for  vehicles  it  takes  great  curves,  always  cut  off  by 
short  cuts  for  pedestrians,  and  even  if  it  be  a  mere  mule 
track,  there  is  generally  a  distinction  between  the  route  taken 
by  the  loaded  animals  on  the  upward  journey,  and  that 
taken  by  the  walker  going  Ught  on  the  downward  journey. 

As  we  cHmb  upwards  we  have  time  to  note  the  characteristic 
woodland  vegetation.  Soon,  however,  the  slope  eases  off, 
and  we  enter  a  basin,  where  the  stream  runs  tranquilly 
between  meadows,  and  the  walls  of  the  valley  recede,  the 
fir-woods  receding  with  them.  Beyond  the  basin  the  valley 
again  rises  steeply,  and  another  basin  follows  in  due  course. 
Almost  any  of  the  Alpine  valleys  will  show  this  phenomenon, 
on  a  smaller  or  larger  scale,  with  greater  or  less  definiteness. 
Sometimes  the  basin  contains  a  beautiful  lake,  often  the 
intervening  steep  stretch  shows  splendid  waterfalls  and 
rapids,  but  in  essence  this  alternation  of  gorge  and  basin,  or, 
as  the  French  say,  of  landing  (palier)  and  rapid,  is  character- 
istic of  river  valleys  whose  general  slope  is  steep  (Plate  XIII.). 


ALPINE  PASSES  109 

In  the  Alps  the  phenomenon  has  been  accentuated  by  the 
recent  passing  away  of  the  glaciers  of  the  Ice  Age,  but  it 
is  not  wholly  a  glacial  phenomenon. 

At  the  head  of  the  valley  various  conditions  occur.  Some- 
times, as  at  Zermatt,  the  last  basin  holds  the  highest  village, 
and  seems  to  be  directly  overhung  by  the  glaciers,  whose 
milky  torrents  foam  down  the  mountain  sides  to  form  or  join 
the  main  stream.  In  such  a  case  access  to  the  valleys  at  the 
other  side  of  the  chain  is  only  possible  over  glacier  passes. 
In  other  cases,  as  happens  in  the  case  of  most  of  the  famous 
Alpine  passes,  the  last  steep  slope  leads  to  a  wide  grassy  plain, 
bearing  one  or  several  lakes,  bitterly  cold  and  wind-swept, 
cut  off  from  the  valleys  at  both  sides  by  slopes  of  great  steep- 
ness. Often  there  is  a  very  uncertain  water-parting  at  the 
summit,  one  stream  rising  from  the  lake,  and  the  other 
from  the  hillside  not  far  away.  Beside  the  summit  lake  there 
is  generally  a  hospice,  where  one  tries  to  warm  one's  chilled 
hands  and  feet,  before  the  diligence  starts  on  its  jolting  way 
down  to  the  fertile  valley  beyond.  Almost  any  pass  —the 
Mt.  Cenis,  the  httle  St.  Bernard,  the  San  Bernardino, 
and  so  forth— will  show  in  varying  form  similar  conditions. 

Now  let  us  consider  in  a  Uttle  more  detail  the  characters 
of  the  different  sections  of  such  a  valley  journey.  As  we 
walk  up  the  steep  stretches  through  the  woods  by  the  short 
cuts,  we  find  it  difficult  to  resist  the  temptation  to  push 
through  the  brushwood  to  have  a  nearer  view  of  the  roaring 
stream.  In  Switzerland  the  existence  of  this  desire  in  the 
mind  of  the  ordinary  tourist  is  generally  recognised  by  the 
shrewd  native,  and  so  we  find  that  paths  are  cut,  steps  and 
staircases  arranged,  seats  provided  and  so  forth,  so  that — 
at  of  course  a  small  outlay — the  finest  part  of  the  gorge  is 
accessible.  There  we  can  note  how  the  water  is  cutting 
down  through  the  sohd  rock ;  in  the  summer  flood  we 
can  hear  the  rattle  of  the  stones  swept  along  the  bottom, 
stones    which    eat    out    the   deep    pot-holes :    in   technical 


110    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTURE  IN  ALPS 

language,  we  see  the  river  at  its  work  of  erosion.  The 
steepest  bit  of  the  road,  the  finest  gorge,  are  generally- 
just  before  we  reach  the  basin,  for  the  water  has  been 
dammed  back  by  a  bar  of  hard  rock  (the  verrou,  as  the 
French  call  it),  and  it  is  this  damming  back  which  helped 
to  form  the  basin  above.  In  the  basin  we  see  no  rock  at 
the  sides  of  the  stream,  only  deposits  of  silt  and  stones. 
The  basin  owes  its  prime  origin  to  the  existence  of  softer 
rocks,  easily  worn  away,  and  the  river  there  no  longer 
shows  its  erosive  but  its  depositing  function.  If  there  be 
no  lake,  the  ground  near  the  stream  is  likely  to  be  more 
or  less  marshy.  It  grows  lush  grasses  and  reeds.  As  we 
pass  away  from  the  stream  we  come  to  drier  ground,  but 
still  ground  where  the  native  rock  is  covered  by  a  deep  deposit 
of  silt.  The  basin  is  the  natural  site  for  the  village,  though, 
if  the  valley  be  narrow,  this  tends  to  be  placed  on  the  slopes 
above  its  floor,  to  escape  the  accumulation  of  cold,  stagnating 
air  in  winter.  Part  of  the  reason  why  the  village  is  placed 
in  the  basin  is  that  here,  as  compared  with  the  steeper 
slopes  above  and  below,  there  is  often  land  fit  for  cultivation. 
Whether  or  not  it  bears  cereal  and  other  crops  depends  upon 
the  elevation,  the  exposure,  the  local  climate,  and  also  on  social 
conditions.  Originally  the  lower  villages  at  least  were  more 
or  less  self-supporting  and  grew  cereals  for  their  own  use. 
With  the  opening  up  of  so  many  of  the  valleys  to  tourists, 
the  natives  tend  to  specialise  more  and  more  upon  the  pastoral 
industry,  and  to  use  the  once  cultivated  fields  for  hay 
crops. 

Such  meadows  are  carefully  manured,  are  irrigated  if 
need  be  in  summer,  and  are  fenced.  They  grow  many  kinds 
of  grasses.  Among  the  grasses  we  see  many  composites, 
tall  umbelhferous  plants,  many  kinds  of  campanula  and 
speedwell,  vetches  and  clovers,  the  bright  blue  sage,  the 
taller  gentians,  especially  the  yellow  gentian  of  medicine. 
In  autumn  also  these  meadows  are  purple  with  the  autumn 


THE  HIGH  PASTUEES  111 

colchicum,  while  the  rare  spring  visitor  will  see  the  spring 
crocus  in  equal  abundance. 

The  glacial  shelves  high  up  on  the  valley  walls,  and  the 
similar  shelves  and  passes  at  the  heads  of  the  valley  are 
Ukewise  grass-grown,  but  their  flora  is  different.  Here 
there  is  no  depth  of  soil,  for  the  surface  has  been  scoured  by 
ice  and  only  a  thin  stony  deposit  intervenes  between  the 
surface  and  the  underlying  rock,  except  where  some  special 
cause  has  led  to  a  greater  local  accumulation  of  fine  glacial 
silt.  But  up  here  erosion  is  at  its  maximum,  and  the  streams 
of  summer,  the  snow  of  winter  (always  dust-loaded),  are 
continually  renewing  the  fertility  of  the  shallow  soil.  Here 
therefore  no  manure  is  necessary  ;  the  soil  is  enriched  by 
the  droppings  of  the  pasturing  cattle,  and  what  is  removed 
from  the  ground  in  the  cheese  carried  down  to  the  valley  is 
renewed  by  the  forces  of  nature. 

Nevertheless  the  pastures  require  careful  management ; 
they  must  not  be  over-grazed,  for  if  the  surface-covering  be 
once  destroyed  the  soil  is  washed  away  and  it  may  be  impos- 
sible to  renew  the  turf  ;  in  the  drier  regions,  as  in  the  Valais, 
they  must  be  irrigated  with  fertilising  glacial  water  in  summer, 
and  stream  regulation  may  have  to  be  carried  on  to  minimise 
destruction  by  torrents.  The  lower  pastures  also  must  be 
protected  by  belts  of  wood  which  help  to  prevent  destructive 
flooding. 

In  these  high  pastures  the  plants  never  reach  a  great  size. 
The  intensity  of  the  insolation  checks  vegetative  growth,  and 
height  growth  would  in  any  case  bring  increased  danger  of 
frost ;  the  plants  are  therefore  '  stocky  '  in  habit,  and,  as 
compared  with  their  alhes  on  the  lower  pastures,  contain  far 
less  woody  matter.  They  form  therefore  a  far  more  nutri- 
tious food  for  cattle  than  those  of  lower  levels.  As  the  soil 
is  scanty  and  shifting  except  in  crevices  it  is  an  advantage 
for  the  plants  to  have  long  tap  roots,  but  these  go  down  to 
layers  of  soil  which  are  very  cold,  and  where  it  is  therefore 


112    MEADOW,  WOOD,  AND  PASTUKE  IN  ALPS 

difficult  for  the  plant  to  take  up  water.  Therefore  the 
alpines  economise  water  as  much  as  possible  ;  they  tend  to 
be  hairy  (edelweiss,  glacial  anemone),  or  to  have  fleshy  leaves 
(houseleeks  and  alpine  Linaria)  ;  they  have  a  characteristic 
tufted  or  cushion  mode  of  growth  (cushion  Silene)  which 
prevents  loss  of  water,  and  diminishes  also  the  risk  of  damage 
from  snow  ;  their  leaves  are  nearly  always  small  (cf.  p.  61). 
Finally,  the  brilliant  flowers  are  partly  due  directly  to  the 
bright  Hght,  are  partly  a  common  feature  of  drought-resisting 
plants  (cf.  p.  62),  and  are  perhaps  partly  necessary  to  attract 
the  few  insects  of  the  heights.  The  fact  that  the  plants  are 
all  low-growing  and  lie  close  to  the  soil,  makes  those  of  the 
pastures  which  he  on  steep  slopes  difficult  to  walk  upon, 
especially  in  dry  seasons.  Many  of  the  '  edelweiss  accidents  ' 
are  due  to  this  fact,  the  incautious  tourist  venturing  without 
properly  nailed  boots  on  grassy  slopes  too  sUppery  for  the 
footing  to  be  regained  after  a  shp. 

We  cannot  attempt  to  give  a  list  even  of  the  most  charac- 
teristic of  the  high  alpines  ;  they  are  best  studied  on  the 
spot.  But  we  may  notice  that  edelweiss,  rare  in  North 
Switzerland,  is  common  in  the  south,  save  where  it  has  been 
rooted  up,  and  is  generally  found  in  company  with  alpine 
aster ;  the  smaller  gentians,  e.g.  the  snow  gentian,  are  as 
frequent  on  the  heights  as  their  larger  alhes  in  the  lower 
meadows ;  anemones  are  abundant,  the  glacial  anemone 
extending  to  great  heights  ;  many  forms  of  primula,  especially 
the  alpine  one,  and  the  mealy  primrose,  Androsaces,  the  tiny 
Globularia,  Soldanellas,  the  cushion  Silene,  the  saxifrages  and 
houseleeks,  and  the  purple  and  yellow  alpine  Linaria  are  all 
of  common  occurrence. 

Those  are  happy  days  when  one  wanders  over  the  high 
pastures,  picking  these  and  many  another  treasure  ;  now 
scrambhng  over  the  moraine  down  to  the  border  of  the 
glacier,  now  lounging  by  the  edge  of  some  tiny  lake,  floating 
the  cups  of  blue  gentians  over  the  mirrored  snow  peaks,  or 


ALPINE  FLORAS  113 

listening  with  half-shut  eyes  to  the  distant  tinkle  of  the  cow- 
bell, or  laying  down  the  law  to  one's  companions  with  more 
strength  of  conviction  than  detailed  knowledge  in  regard 
to  the  name  of  this  or  that  peak,  or  the  correct  route  up 
each.  Where  is  joy  to  be  found  on  earth  if  not  here  in  this 
splendid,  undefiled  air,  with  all  the  glories  of  sky  and  moun- 
tain around  one  ? 

References.  There  are  a  great  number  of  Alpine  floras,  and  those 
who  do  not  caro  to  burden  their  luggage  by  carrying  a  book  out,  can 
generally  pick  up  some  one  or  other  of  these  in  the  chief  resorts.  A 
very  handy  little  book  of  small  size  is  Dalle-Torre's  Tourist's  Guide 
to  the  Flora  of  (he  A  Ips,  translated  by  Alfred  Bennett,  which  slips  easily 
into  the  pocket.  Bennett's  own  book,  The  Flora  of  the  Alps,  in  two 
volumes,  with  coloured  illustrations,  is  useful  but  rather  bulky.  One 
of  the  best  general  books  on  the  plants  of  Switzerland,  though  like 
those  already  mentioned  it  is  a  little  old-fashioned,  is  Christ's  Das 
FJlanzenleben  cler  Schweiz,  with  some  useful  maps.  More  modern  and 
much  more  detailed  is  Dr.  Riibel's  PJlanzengeographische  Moiiographie 
des  Berninagebietes,  wliich  gives  information  in  regard  to  a  much- visited 
region,  and  has  a  copious  bibliography.  Schroter's  Das  PJlanzenleben 
der  Alpen,  and  the  small  book,  by  the  same  author,  called  Taschen- 
flora  des  Alpen-Wanderers,  with  good  illustrations,  should  also  be 
mentioned.  Dr.  Norbert  Krebs'  Laenderkunde  der  Oesterreichischen 
Alpen  gives  some  details  in  regard  to  the  vegetation  of  the  Austrian 
Alps,  as  well  as  in  regard  to  many  other  matters,  and  has  also  an 
extensive  bibliography.  The  alpines  of  the  Pyrenees  are  discussed 
in  Sorre's  Pyrenees  Mediterraneennes,  already  mentioned. 


CHAPTER  X 

MOORS    AND   HEATHS 

'  An  acre  of  barren  ground  ;  long  heath,  brown  furze — anjrthing.' 

So  far  we  have  shown  that  the  traveller  in  Europe  is  especially 
fortunate  in  that  there  those  tracts  of  land  which  are  largely 
uncultivated,  and  therefore  bear  more  or  less  their  original 
vegetation,  are  characterised  by  a  considerable  variety  of 
plant  formations,  and  it  is,  of  course,  such  uncultivated 
regions  that  botanically-minded  tourists  chiefly  visit.  Thus 
for  spring  and  winter  hohdays  he  has  before  him  the  some- 
what infrequent  evergreen  forests  and  the  more  abundant 
maquis  and  garigues  of  the  Mediterranean  region  ;  summer 
gives  him  opportunity  to  study  the  remnants  of  the  original 
European  forest,  as  represented  by  deciduous  woods  in  the 
lower  grounds,  and  coniferous  forests  on  the  higher ;  in 
summer  also  he  can  study  the  splendours  of  the  mountain 
flora,  with  its  double  interest  of  adaptation  to  present  condi- 
tions, and  reminiscences  of  past  ones,  when  the  plants  of 
Central  and  Northern  Europe,  like  the  animals,  alternately 
advanced  and  retreated  with  the  fluctuations  of  the  ice. 
There  remains  one  other  kind  of  formation,  not  yet  con- 
sidered, which  occurs  over  wide  stretches  of  land,  and,  since 
its  presence  involves  the  assumption  of  poverty  of  soil,  these 
stretches  also  are  more  or  less  available  for  the  purpose  of 
the  tourist.  This  type  is  that  of  moors  and  heaths,  which 
occupy  a  large  area  in  north-west  Germany,  especially  in 
Schleswig-Holstein,  Hanover,  Oldenburg,  also  in  Jutland,  in 

114 


PLATE  XIV 


Tine  ami  !Moor — tlie  Conflict. 


PEAT  AND  ITS  ORIGIN  115 

Belgium  and  Holland,  in  parts  of  northern  and  western 
France,  as  well  as  in  England,  Ireland  and  Scotland. 

These  tracts  of  land  are  now  in  process  of  being  studied 
from  the  standpoint  of  ecological  botany,  and  it  is  rather 
unfortunate  that  the  words  which  the  botanists  employ  have 
another  sense  in  ordinary  speech,  while  the  matter  is  further 
compUcated  by  the  fact  that  the  dictionary  equivalents  of 
the  French  and  German  words  used  to  denote  moors  and 
heaths,  do  not  precisely  represent  the  plant  formations  as 
they  occur  in  nature.  We  shall  treat  the  subject  here  in 
the  simplest  way  possible,  omitting  minor  formations,  such 
as  the  Enghsh  fens,  and  all  the  subtleties  of  nomenclature 
based  upon  the  predominance  of  particular  plants  in  a  moor 
or  heath. 

Moors  and  most  heaths  have  this  in  common,  that  the 
surface  soil  consists  of  peat,  or,  as  it  is  called  botanically, 
acid  humus,  whose  presence  again  indicates  that  the  oceanic 
climate  is  present  in  its  extreme  form.  Wherever  we  have 
peat  we  find  that  there  is  a  high  rainfall,  evenly  distributed 
throughout  the  year,  and  a  small  range  of  temperature.  The 
summers  are  cool  and  wet,  the  \vinters  mild  and  wet,  and 
long  spells  of  frost  and  drought  are  ahke  unknown. 

Obviously,  however,  this  is  not  the  whole  story,  for  this 
cHmate  reigns  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  over  practically  the 
whole  of  Ireland  and  the  whole  of  Scotland,  and  these  countries 
are  far  from  being  uniformly  covered  with  peat.  We  shall 
return  in  a  moment  to  the  question  of  what  determines  the 
origin  of  peat,  so  far  as  this  is  known.  Meantime  let  us  note 
what  the  botanists  regard  as  the  distinction  between  heath 
and  moor.  Heaths  occur  over  poor  sandy  and  gravelly  soils, 
on  the  surface  of  which  lies  a  layer  of  peat,  varying  greatly 
in  thickness  but  never  so  deep  that  the  underlying  gravelly 
or  sandy  soil  fails  to  assert  its  influence  upon  the  plant  hfe. 
In  patches  on  such  heaths  we  generally  find  hollows  where 
the  peat  has  accumulated  to  great  depths,  and  there  the 


116  MOORS  AND  HEATHS 

prevailing  heather  of  the  heath  proper  is  replaced  by  other 
plants,  or  occurs  mingled  with  them.  Such  patches  approach 
the  moor  type.  In  the  western  parts  of  the  British  Isles, 
especially  in  parts  of  the  western  Highlands  of  Scotland, 
there  occur,  interspersed  with  less  repellent  formations, 
large  tracts  of  true  moor,  that  is  of  regions  where  there  is  a 
deposit  of  peat  so  deep  that  the  nature  of  the  underlying  rock 
does  not  affect  plant  hfe.  In  such  regions  a  '  tussock  '  growth 
of  plants,  e.g.  of  cotton  grass,  dwarf  sedge  and  dwarf  rush,  is 
characteristic  ;  heather,  though  generally  present,  does  not 
predominate  ;  areas  of  quaking  bog  occur,  and  the  surface  is 
difficult  to  traverse  and  difficult  to  utiHse  in  any  fashion  what- 
ever— such  regions  are  botanically  typical  '  moors.'  It  will 
appear  from  this  description  that  botanically  the  ordinary 
'  grouse  moor  '  of  Yorkshire  or  of  the  eastern  Scottish  High- 
lands {e.g.  of  Perthshire)  (Plate  XV.),  with  its  predominance  of 
heather,  is  a  heath  and  not  a  moor,  though  it  may  be  inter- 
sected by  patches  of  true  moor.  This  botanical  use  of  the 
terms  is  based  upon  the  German  use.  In  southern  and  midland 
England  a  heath  is  generally  regarded,  in  popular  speech, 
as  a  stretch  of  open  ground  covered  with  heather,  or  oftener 
perhaps  with  whin  or  bracken  and  their  associates,  but 
always  dry  enough  to  walk  upon  with  comfort,  the  dryness 
being  due  to  the  thinness  of  the  layer  of  peat,  and  the  porous 
nature  of  the  underlying  rock,  which  is  often  sandstone. 
As  the  similar  tracts  in  the  north  of  England  and  in  Scotland 
are  wetter  and  have  a  deeper  layer  of  peat,  there  is  a  more 
or  less  tacit  understanding  that  a  moor  is  wet,  as  compared 
with  a  dry  heath.  The  botanists,  as  we  have  seen,  wish  to 
impose  a  fresh  significance  on  the  top  of  this  popular  one. 
Whether  such  a  refinement  can  persist  in  face  of  the  popular 
use  is  a  little  doubtful,  but  it  is  important,  from  several 
points  of  view  and  especially  in  connection  with  afiorestation, 
that  the  fact  should  be  reahsed  that  there  is  a  marked  con- 
trast between  the  more  or  less  uniformly  heather-covered 


I'l.ATK   W 


The  Moor  ti'iuiiij)haiit. 
Note  the  ahlers  at  the  margiu  of  the  stream. 


FORMATION  OF  GARDEN  SOIL  117 

areas,  underlain  by  a  relatively  thin  layer  of  peat  resting 
upon  a  poor  porous  soil,  and  those  other  tracts  where  heather 
does  not  predominate  and  may  even  be  absent,  and  a  dense 
continuous  mass  of  peat  separates  the  growing  plants  from 
the  underlying  soil  or  rock. 

The  distinction  is  of  course  one  of  degree,  not  of  kind,  for 
though  the  botanist  indoors  may  say  concisely  that  a  parti- 
cular region  is  heath  if  the  underlying  sand  or  gravel  is  affect- 
ing the  Ufe  of  the  plants,  and  a  moor  if  their  physiology  is 
influenced  by  the  peat  alone,  yet  in  the  field  he  knows 
perfectly  well  that  it  is,  at  least  as  yet,  not  always  possible 
to  say  in  every  case  which  of  the  two  conditions  prevails. 
The  matter  is  further  compUcated  by  the  fact  that  in  some 
of  the  heaths  of  south-east  England  there  is  practically  no 
peat  at  all,  and  the  heath  formation  is  due  only  to  the  poor 
sandy  soil. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  the  difficult  question  of  the  cause  of 
peat  formation.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  dead  plants 
or  parts  of  plants  decay  rapidly  after  death,  and  mingle  with 
the  other  constituents  of  the  soil  to  give  the  whole  a  dark 
colour.  The  process  of  decay  hberates  substances  which 
are  necessary  for  the  growth  of  new  plants,  and  there  is  thus 
a  connection  between  the  fertility  of  the  soil  and  the  amount 
of  this  '  mild  humus  '  present.  Ordinary  garden  soil  is  full 
of  such  decayed  vegetable  matter,  and  all  who  have  dug  a 
garden  bed  (or  seen  it  dug,  but  the  phenomenon  is  then  less 
impressive !)  know  what  a  difference  there  is  between  the 
dark,  fertile  surface  layer  and  the  paler,  less  fertile  sub-soil 
where  vegetable  matter  is  scanty.  The  process  of  decay  is 
chiefly  effected  by  certain  bacteria,  which  can  only  thrive 
where  there  is  plenty  of  air  and  some  Mme  salts.  Therefore 
our  garden  beds  are  constantly  stirred  and  dug  to  allow  air 
to  enter,  and,  if  lime  salts  are  deficient,  dressings  of  hme  are 
appUed.  Thus,  the  process  of  decay  is  not,  as  we  used  to 
think,  spontaneous,  it  is  a  phenomenon  of  life.     Anything 


118  MOORS  AND  HEATHS 

which  destroys  or  prevents  the  development  of  the  minute 
organisms  of  the  soil,  prevents  that  breaking  down  of  the 
parts  of  the  dead  plants  which  is  essential  for  the  growth  of 
most  new  plants.  Peat  is  in  essence  partially  decomposed 
vegetable  matter,  and  it  tends  to  accumulate  where  the 
conditions  are  unfavourable  to  the  ordinary  soil  bacteria, 
that  is,  where  air  and  lime  salts  are  absent.  Low  tempera- 
tures assist  its  formation,  for  they  also  check  bacterial 
activity;  thus  peat  is  not  formed  in  warm  climates.  Further, 
we  do  not  in  the  general  case  get  peat  over  limestone  rocks, 
because  these  yield  hme  salts  and  are  permeable  to  water, 
though  there  are  certain  exceptions  to  this  rule,  where  special 
causes  intervene.  The  fact  has  a  good  deal  of  practical 
importance,  for  if  you  propose  to  take  a  hohday  in  a  district 
where  grouse  are  rigorously  preserved,  you  will  find  that  it 
is  advisable  to  pick  out  a  village  in  a  region  where  limestone 
predominates,  if  you  can,  for  here  there  will  be  few  grouse 
moors  and  you  will  have  greater  freedom  of  movement. 
This  is  especially  true  in  the  Pennines,  for  instance,  for  where 
the  limestone  predominates  cattle  pastures  occur,  and  only 
the  bullocks  are  hkely  to  resent  your  taking  long  tramps 
over  the  hills.  But  where  peat  occurs,  and  therefore  heather, 
then  the  watchful  gamekeeper  lies  in  wait. 

What  conditions  lead  to  that  absence  of  oxygen  which, 
next  to  a  low  temperature  and  the  absence  of  lime  salts,  is 
so  potent  a  factor  in  peat  formation  ?  The  answer  is,  in 
brief,  the  waterlogging  of  the  surface.  Part  of  the  reason 
why  peat  does  not  generally  form  over  limestone  is  that  in 
limestone  regions  water  drains  away  rapidly  and  water- 
logging does  not  occur.  This  may  seem  absurd  when  we  have 
just  stated  that  peat  often  forms,  though  in  thin  layers,  over 
sand  and  gravel,  surely  porous  enough  formations.  Here, 
however,  a  new  factor  intervenes,  for  a  complicated  series 
of  chemical  interchanges  often  takes  place  which  leads  to 
the  formation  of  a  hard  layer  called  '  moor-pan  '  (German 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  PEAT  119 

ortstein),  often  lying  a  foot  or  so  below  the  surface,  and 
cutting  off  the  surface  layer  of  soil  and  the  surface  water 
from  the  porous  lower  layers.  As  a  result  the  upper  layers 
are  flooded  with  stagnant  water,  and  peat  forms.  In  such 
cases,  if  the  moor-pan  be  thoroughly  broken  up,  and  the  soil 
afterwards  kept  stirred,  or  trees  planted,  peat  formation 
seems  to  cease.  The  moor-pan,  however,  is  itself  at  least 
partially  due  to  chmatic  conditions,  to  the  absence  of  sun- 
drying  in  summer,  of  prolonged  frost  in  winter. 

Another  occasional  cause  of  surface-waterlogging  is  the 
presence  of  a  layer  of  impervious  boulder  clay,  which  does 
not  allow  the  surface  water  to  drain  away.  But  these  and 
similar  causes  do  not  account  for  the  enormous  depths  of 
peat  found  in  parts  of  the  north-west  Highlands  of  Scotland, 
and  it  seems  fairly  certain  that  these  owe  their  origin  to 
cUmatic  conditions  which  prevailed  at  an  earUer  period  than 
the  present — are  thus,  in  a  sense,  one  of  the  results  of  the 
Ice  Age.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  very  Uttle  doubt  that 
parts  at  least  of  the  heaths  of  Germany,  of  south-eastern 
England  and  possibly  even  of  certain  regions  in  Scotland  have 
arisen  from  woodland,  largely  owing  to  human  mismanagement. 
They  are  Uke  the  maquis  and  garigues  of  the  Mediterranean 
region,  in  that  they  represent  areas  where  man  has  turned  a 
very  deUcately  poised  balance  definitely  against  the  forest. 
In  some  instances  at  least,  as  has  been  shown  in  Germany, 
scientific  forestry  can  restore  the  vanished  woodland,  and 
prevent  further  peat  formation,  but  so  far  as  is  known  at 
present  the  true  '  moors  '  of  north-western  Scotland,  with 
their  heavy,  impervious  load  of  peat,  represent  regions 
which  are  in  large  part  destined  meantime  to  resist  human 
.efforts  at  reclamation.  If  Northern  Europe  as  a  whole  is 
a  region  which  has,  owing  to  the  gradual  passing  away  of 
the  effects  of  the  Ice  Age,  been  becoming  through  the  historic 
period  progressively  better  fitted  for  man's  occupation, 
these  peat-enveloped  areas  are  regions  where  the  ameUora- 


120  MOORS  AND  HEATHS 

tion  has  not  yet  proceeded  far  enough  for  his  purposes. 
But  their  incapacity  for  cultivation  and  in  part  also  even 
for  afforestation  need  not  mean  that  they  should  He  unvisited 
save  by  the  sportsman  ;  they  are,  to  some  extent,  fitted  to 
be  the  recreation  grounds  of  the  dense  industrial  populations 
further  south,  to  be  tourist  resorts  in  the  largest  sense,  and 
the  singularly  close  connection  which  exists  between  their 
vegetation,  the  physical  conditions,  and  the  types  of  human 
occupation  which  alone  are  possible,  make  them  admirably 
suited  for  study  by  the  inhabitants  of  a  country  where  the 
vegetation,  the  modes  of  life  and  of  soil  utihsation  have 
largely  lost  their  primitive  and  '  natural '  connection  with 
the  physical  conditions. 

If  we  sum  up  the  general  facts  as  regards  the  distribution 
of  heaths  and  moors,  we  find  that  within  the  reach  of  the 
extreme  type  of  oceanic  cHmate,  the  poorer  and  more  porous 
soils,  especially  in  the  more  exposed  situations,  maintain 
under  natural  conditions  a  thin  kind  of  woodland  which,  owing 
to  human  influence,  or  to  slow  geological  or  even  climatic 
change,  is  liable  to  disappear  and  to  be  replaced  by  an  associa- 
tion of  plants  very  tolerant  of  infertile  soil,  of  which  heather 
is  the  more  conspicuous  member.  Among  the  heather  there 
often  appear  seedlings  or  dwarfed  plants  of  forest-forming 
species,  such  as  birch,  mountain  ash,  willow,  and  so  forth. 
These,  Hke  the  dwarfed  trees  of  the  maquis,  or  the  prostrate 
pines  of  the  eastern  Alps,  represent  the  last  struggle  of  the 
forest  against  unfavourable  conditions.  Once  the  heather 
has  estabhshed  itself,  if  there  be  no  interference  by  grazing, 
periodic  burning  or  drainage,  the  tendency  is  always  for  it  to 
increase  its  hold,  partly  because  its  dense  felt  of  roots,  by 
interfering  with  the  circulation  of  water,  helps  to  promote 
the  development  of  raw  humus,  which  is  in  its  turn  inimical 
to  forest  growth  (Plate  XIV.).  The  formation  of  moor-pan 
also  prevents  the  re-establishment  of  forest.  But  while 
it  is  probable  that  in  some  cases  mismanagement  has  done 


HEATHER  121 

much  to  promote  the  growth  of  heath,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  succession  of  plants  in  the  peat  bogs  of  Scot 
land  suggests  that  in  the  past  climatic  changes,  in  the 
direction  either  of  a  total  increase  in  rainfall,  or  of  increased 
uniformity  of  distribution  throughout  the  year,  greatly 
promoted  the  growth  of  peat,  and  the  present  predominance 
of  heaths  and  moors  there  is  thus  a  persistent  result  of  past 
conditions  rather  than  of  present  ones. 

We  have  thus  in  North-western  Europe  generally  all 
transitions  from  the  sandy  heath  with  no  peat  but  a  covering 
of  heather,  to  the  deep  peat  bog  where  the  heather  is  more 
or  less  submerged  among  other  plants.  The  object  of  the 
scientific  forester  is  to  save,  where  he  can,  wood  from  degenera- 
ting into  heath,  to  re-convert  where  possible  existing  heath 
into  forest,  and,  as  already  suggested,  probably  also  to 
recognise  that  in  certain  locahties  the  time  has  not  yet  come 
when  his  interference  is  possible. 

Let  us  now  look  at  heaths  and  moors  a  httle  more  closely. 
Graebner  defines  a  heath  as  an  open  region  without  conspic- 
uous tree  growth,  where  woody  vegetation  consists  for  the 
most  part  of  shrubs  and  low  bushes,  and  a  continuous  grass- 
sward  is  absent.  The  absence  of  this  sward  makes  the 
grazing  poor,  the  poverty  of  the  soil  renders  cultivation 
usually  unprofitable,  and  cultivation  is  further  rendered 
difficult  by  the  frequent  presence  of  peat,  which  acts  like  a 
poison  to  most  plants. 

The  predominating  plant  of  the  heath  is  heather  (Plate XV.), 
a  low  stragghng  shrub  with  characteristic  small,  evergreen, 
closely  crowded  leaves,  and,  as  we  all  know,  a  gorgeous  display 
of  bloom  in  the  flowering  season,  the  splendour  of  which  is  apt 
to  conceal  the  real  poverty  of  the  soil  from  the  casual  observer. 
Obviously  the  plant  is  drought-resisting  (a  xerophyte),  a  fact 
which  may  seem  curious  when  we  remember  that  it  often 
occurs  in  damp  places.  The  reason  is  that  the  acid  humus 
of  the  peat  makes  it  very  difficult  for  the  plant  to  absorb 


122  MOORS  AND  HEATHS 

water,  and  therefore  it  must  economise  supplies,  for  these 
can  only  be  renewed  with  great  slowness.  Further,  not 
only  can  heather  grow  on  the  poorest  of  soils,  but  a  rich  soil 
is  fatal.  The  plant  normally  takes  in  water  with  extreme 
slowness,  and  this  absorbed  water  in  natural  conditions 
contains  only  an  infinitesimal  amount  of  dissolved  salts  ; 
if  a  stronger  solution  be  presented  to  the  roots,  the  plant  is 
soon  poisoned. 

Another  peculiarity  of  heather  as  compared  with  wood- 
land plants  is  its  stationary  nature.  Plants  which  in  summer 
make  no  attempt  to  economise  water,  like  those  which  form 
the  hardy  perennials  of  our  gardens,  grow  rapidly,  but  at  the 
same  time  speedily  exhaust  the  soil  around  them.  In  our 
gardens  they  require  constant  feeding,  and  a  periodical 
'  shift '  as  the  gardeners  say  ;  in  nature  they  often  display 
adaptations  which  permit  them  to  tap  each  year  new  areas 
or  layers  of  soil.  Thus  many  bulbs  sink  deeper  into  the  soil 
as  they  grow  older  {e.g.  wild  hyacinth),  and  such  plants  as 
Solomon's  seal  or  the  perennial  sunflowers  have  creeping 
rootstocks,  so  that  next  year's  stem  will  not  occupy  exactly 
the  same  position  as  this  year's  one.  This  does  not  occur 
with  heather,  for  though  the  individual  plants  are  not  long- 
lived,  the  new  growths  spring  from  the  same  region  as  the 
old.  No  doubt  this  is  because  hfe  is  not  so  fast  as  in  the 
woodland. 

During  their  growing  period  herbaceous  plants  take  up 
food  and  water  rapidly,  and  soon  exhaust  their  immediate 
surroundings  ;  in  the  soil  also  the  bacteria  efiect  rapid 
decomposition  of  organic  remains.  Not  only  does  the  heather 
absorb  food  substances  with  great  slowness,  but  the  peat 
contains  a  large  amount  of  partially  decomposed  vegetable 
matter,  capable  apparently  of  supplying  the  heath  plants  for 
an  almost  unlimited  period.  It  seems  clear  also  that  there 
is  some  form  of  partnership  between  the  heather  and  a  fungus 
of  simple  structure  which  thrives  in  peat,  comparable  to  that 


BERRY-BEARING  SHRUBS  123 

partnership  with  a  bacterium  which  enables  plants  of  the 
peaflower  family  to  enrich  instead  of  impoverishing  the  soils 
in  which  they  hve. 

Of  the  companions  of  the  heather,  most  have  evergreen 
leaves,  either  small  with  in-rolled  edges,  Uke  those  of  the 
heaths,  or  tough  and  leathery  hke  those  of  bearberry,  cow- 
berry and  so  forth.  Blaeberry  (or  bilberry  or  whortleberry) 
is  an  exception,  for  its  small  leaves  are  deciduous,  falhng  off 
in  the  autumn,  at  which  time  they  are  brightly  coloured 
and  add  another  tone,  if  a  minor  one,  to  the  coloration  of 
the  heath.  But  its  green  stems  can  carry  on  leaf  functions 
during  the  period  when  the  leaves  are  absent,  so  that  in  a 
sense  it  also  is  '  evergreen.' 

In  the  drier  moors  of  Scotland  (that  is,  in  the  *  heaths '  of 
the  botanists)  the  blaeberry  is  often  abundant,  though  it 
does  not  fruit  with  the  freedom  seen  on  the  sunny  Alpine 
slopes.  Its  ally  the  cowberry  is  also  abundant,  and  presents 
an  interesting  resemblance  to  the  bearberry,  which  often 
covers  large  areas  on  the  Scottish  moors.  The  resemblance 
is  of  course  adaptive,  that  is  the  result  of  the  fact  that  both 
plants  are  suited  to  similar  surroundings.  If  the  fruits  are 
present  it  is  easy  to  distinguish  the  rather  pleasant,  acid 
cowberries  from  the  absolutely  tasteless  bearberries,  with 
their  large  '  wooden  '  seeds.  If  the  fruits  be  absent  it  is  a 
pretty  Httle  test  in  accuracy  of  observation  to  learn  to 
distinguish  at  a  glance  between  the  two.  The  learned  (or 
the  well  read  !)  will  reflect  that  the  same  difficulty  arises 
for  the  stranger  in  distinguishing  between  the  oUve  and 
the  evergreen  oak  in  the  Mediterranean  area  ;  between  the 
yellow  gentian  and  the  lily-Uke  Veratrum  in  Alpine  pastures  ; 
between  the  leaves  of  Catalpa  and  Paulownia  in  a  Mid- 
European  park,  and  will  not  fail  to  draw  the  obvious  deduc- 
tion. Another  example  of  the  same  thing  is  seen  on  the 
moor  in  the  resemblance  of  the  crowberry  to  a  heath,  except 
where  the  black  berries  are  present  to  point  the  dili'erence. 


124  MOORS  AND  HEATHS 

Other  frequent  plants  of  heaths  are  the  two  common  true 
heaths,  distinguished  by  their  bell-hke  flowers  from  the  heather, 
which  has  cleft  blooms,  the  curious  petty-whin,  the  mat-grass 
and  its  alhes  of  the  grass  family,  sedges,  club  mosses.  High- 
land cudweed,  so  oddly  reminiscent  of  the  Alpine  edelweiss, 
tormentil,  bedstraw,  wintergreen,  cowwheat,  and  the  com- 
mon milkwort,  the  last  a  trying  plant  for  the  uninitiated. 
It  occurs  in  three  colour  varieties,  blue,  white  and  pink, 
and  the  beginner  can  rarely  shake  off  the  conviction  that 
these  are  three  separate  plants.  The  writer  has  a  vivid 
recollection  of  a  week's  botanising,  long,  long  ago,  on  a 
moor  in  the  company  of  a  party  zealous  but  inexperienced. 
When  each  member  of  a  party  numbering  some  four  or  five  had, 
with  great  formahty  and  much  introductory  self-laudation, 
presented  a  specimen  of  each  variety,  as  an  entirely  new  and 
remarkable  plant,  one  began  to  feel  that  the  milkwort  rather 
overdid  the  variabihty.  It  is,  however,  a  curious  and  com- 
pUcated  flower,  and  has  alpine  representatives  with  the 
same  disconcerting  habit  as  our  common  British  form  of 
looking  like  anything,  except  what  one  expects  a  milkwort 
to  look  hke.  One  Alpine  species  has  been  known  to  be 
described  in  the  field  by  persons  who  prided  themselves  on 
a  certain  knowledge  of  botany  as  a  dwarf  broom,  a  plant 
with  which  milkwort  has  no  connection  whatever. 

Where  the  heath  merges  into  wood,  juniper  is  often  common, 
and  bracken  may  also  occur,  though  as  a  general  rule  in 
Scotland  bracken  occurs  outside  the  heather  zone.  This 
is  true  also  of  the  gorse  or  whin,  common  on  English  heaths 
but  in  Scotland  occurring  outside  of  the  dry  moors,  and  being 
specially  characteristic  of  the  hills  built  up  of  basaltic  rocks 
(whinstone),  whence  its  local  name.  These  regions,  however, 
suffer  from  physiological  drought  no  less  than  the  heaths 
proper,  and  gorse  shows  the  usual  features  of  reduced 
leaves  and  a  short-lived  glory  of  bloom  at  the  most  favour- 
able season  of  its  year.     In  connection  with  this  spring  glory 


BOG-MOSS  125 

it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  temptation  to  quote  the  saying 
of  a  Scottish  fanner,  whose  reflections  on  the  subject  illus- 
trate the  type  of  mind  produced  by  the  natural  conditions, 
no  less  than  the  characters  of  the  plant. 

He  was  walking  over  slopes  covered  with  gorgeous  yellow 
bloom  in  the  company  of  a  lady  who  expressed  some 
appreciation  of  the  sight.  The  farmer  was  meditatively 
chewing  grass,  and  he  glanced  round  and  said  seriously — 
*  Ay,  they  do  say  that  when  Linnaous  first  saw  the  whin  in 
bloom  he  went  down  on  his  knees  and  thanked  his  Maker.' 
Then  he  spat  out  the  grass  vigorously,  and  added — '  I 
never  thocht  anything  on't  myseF  ! '  In  other  words,  he 
did  not  consciously  despise  it,  but  its  aesthetic  aspect  had 
not  occurred  to  him  as  a  significant  fact. 

On  the  true  moors,  that  is,  where  the  peat  is  very  deep, 
bog-moss  (Sphagnum)  with  its  long  stems  loaded  with  water, 
and  showing  a  wonderful  range  of  colour,  from  pure  green 
to  dehcate  pinkish-yellow,  is  common  in  the  wettest  parts, 
and  is  a  great  peat  former.  Cotton-grass  and  dwarf  sedges 
are  also  abundant,  and  form  the  clumps  or  tussocks  on  which 
the  plants  of  heather  and  heath  are  chiefly  found.  Cran- 
berry, cloudberry  and  bog  asphodel  with  its  pale  yellow 
spikes  of  bloom  are  frequent.  In  places,  also,  the  curious 
sundew,  with  its  leaves  fringed  with  bright  red  insect-catching 
hairs,  is  often  common.  It  generally  lives  in  association  with 
the  wet  sphagnum  patches,  and  its  difficulty  in  absorbing 
mineral  food  is  compensated  for  by  its  fly-catching  powers. 
The  flat  pale-green  rosettes  of  butterwort  (Pinguicula)  also 
occur  in  such  places,  and  the  comparatively  large  deep  blue 
flowers  may  be  seen  rising  singly  from  the  centre  of  the 
.rosette.  This  plant,  which  is  also  insectivorous,  has  beautiful 
Alpine  representatives,  and  our  common  form  occurs  at 
considerable  elevations  there.  Almost  any  plant  of  the 
'  heath '  association  may  reappear  on  the  typical  moors, 
but  one  characteristic  of  wet  patches  in  both  has  not  yet 


126  MOOES  AND  HEATHS 

been  mentioned.  This  is  Bog  myrtle,  a  low  shrub  with 
fragrant,  resinous  leaves,  bearing  catkins  in  early  spring. 
It  often  occurs  in  great  abundance,  and  its  fragrance,  recalling 
that  of  many  Mediterranean  plants,  is  an  interesting  point. 

If  we  now  sum  up  in  brief  the  contents  of  the  preceding 
chapters,  we  may  say  that  the  most  characteristic  plant 
formation  of  Western  Europe  is  the  temperate  forest,  with 
its  marked  alternation  between  a  drought-resisting,  leafless 
winter  form,  and  a  water-demanding  and  water-spending 
summer  form,  wath  abundant  and  deUcate  foliage.  At  the 
seaward  margin,  where  the  cHmate  becomes  very  equable 
and  very  damp  ;  at  the  southern  margin,  where  it  becomes 
equable  as  to  temperature  but  dry,  especially  in  summer  ; 
at  the  upward  margin,  where  the  wind,  the  great  radiation, 
the  persistency  of  low  winter  temperatures,  the  coldness  of 
the  soil  lead  to  the  development  of  a  special  type  of  climate — 
in  all  these  three  regions  the  temperate  forest  is  replaced 
by  a  xerophytic  type  of  vegetation,  differing  greatly  in 
the  three  difierent  regions,  but  showing  the  same  tendency 
for  arborescent  plants  to  become  dwarfed  and  then  finally 
to  disappear,  and  for  the  shrubby  or  herbaceous  plants  to 
develop  various  forms  of  protection  against  loss  of  water. 
Within  the  Mediterranean  region  in  the  narrow  sense  the 
soil  is  often  very  shallow  ;  within  the  zone  of  heaths  and  moor 
it  is  naturally  poor,  and  tends,  especially  in  the  latter,  to  be 
covered  or  even  entirely  concealed  by  a  layer  of  peat,  a 
substance  inimical  to  the  growth  of  all  but  a  restricted  number 
of  plants.  Finally,  in  the  mountain  region  the  soil  is  generally 
shallow,  often  shifting,  but  its  shallowness  is  to  some  extent 
compensated  for  by  the  rapidity  of  rock  waste,  which  con- 
tinually renews  the  substances  necessary  to  plant  Hfe.  In 
Western  iiurope  the  regions  best  fitted  to  the  cultivation  of 
plants  are  first  those  favoured  parts  of  the  Mediterranean 
region,  where  the  soil  is  deeper  than  usual  and  is  fertile, 


THE  CHANGING  EARTH  127 

for  here  the  high  temperatures  promote  plant  growth,  and 
then  the  loess  regions  of  the  forest  area,  and  the  plains  within 
the  forest  area  from  which  the  woods  have  been  cleared. 

Had  we  taken  the  Europe  of  the  geography  books  instead 
of  the  Europe  of  our  own  definition,  we  should  have  been 
obUged  to  add  another  great  plant  formation  to  those  already 
considered,  that  of  the  steppe,  but  this  we  regard  as  outside 
our  scope  here. 

In  studying  any  one  of  the  formations  described  above 
the  tourist  should  not  confine  himself  to  picking  out  the 
more  obvious  adaptations — interesting  though  this  occupa- 
tion is.  Even  more  important  is  the  fact  that  all  the  forma- 
tions, especially  near  the  margins  of  their  natural  habitat, 
are  in  a  state  of  constant  flux,  due  in  large  part  to  the  wearing 
down  or  building  up  of  the  surface  by  the  ordinary  agents 
of  geological  change.  It  is  along  the  Unes  of  natural  weakness, 
as  it  were,  that  man  intercalates  his  cultivated  plants  and 
domestic  animals,  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  important  con- 
tributions of  modern  botany  to  geographical  science  that  it 
is  emphasising  the  changeableness  of  the  plant  covering, 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  plant  hfe  with  changes  in  the  physical 
conditions.  Thus  to  the  older  geological  conception  of  change, 
so  admirably  expressed  by  Tennyson  in  the  well-known 
stanza,  a  part  of  which  we  have  placed  at  the  head  of  Chapter 
VII.,  we  have  to  add  the  newer  botanical  one,  that  forest  and 
moor  and  grassland  shift  and  change  also,  chasing  one  another 
Uke  clouds  across  the  summer  sky. 

Refeeences.  For  the  German  heaths  the  most  comprehensive 
book  is  Graebner's  Die  Heide  NorMeutsclilands,  with  very  copious 
references,  in  Engler  u.  Drude's  Vegetation  der  Erde.  The  moors  and 
heaths  of  the  British  Isles  are  considered  fully  in  Types  of  British 
Vegetation,  edited  by  A.  G.  Tansley,  also  with  references,  and  those 
specially  interested  in  Scottish  moors,  should  consult  the  recent  volumes 
of  the  Scottish  Geographical  Magazine,  in  which  a  number  of  papers  on 
the  subject  have  appeared. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   EARTH   AND   MAN 

'  Necessity  !  thou  mother  of  the  world.' 

In  the  preceding  chapters,  when  considering  the  natural 
plant  formations,  we  have  seen  that  only  in  hmited  regions, 
and  often  only  to  a  small  extent,  do  these  persist  unaltered. 
Everywhere  man  has  affected  the  original  vegetation,  de- 
stroying here,  adding  new  plants  there ;  acting  sometimes 
directly,  and  sometimes  indirectly,  as  by  draining  the  land, 
by  involuntary  soil  destruction,  by  soil  improvement,  and 
so  forth.  But  while  some  of  these  effects  are  involuntary, 
or  due  to  unforeseen  circumstances,  by  far  the  most  important 
are  the  result  of  dehberate  intention.  Everywhere  man  has 
sought  to  make  room  for  his  cultivated  plants  and  his  domesti- 
cated animals,  and  this  has  involved  wholesale  modification 
of  the  original  formations,  which  in  some  instances,  as  we  have 
seen,  can  now  only  be  traced  with  difficulty.  The  cultivated 
plants  consist  in  part  of  native  plants  improved  by  human 
care,  but  retaining  the  adaptations  which  fit  them  for  the 
chmate  of  their  habitat  (c/.  the  ohve  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean region) ;  in  part  also  of  introduced  plants,  brought 
from  parts  of  the  world  having  some  climatic  affinities  with 
the  districts  where  they  are  now  grown  (cf.  the  potato,  now 
so  widely  grown  in  North-Western  Europe,  but  a  native  of 
the  cool,  moist  chmate  of  the  slopes  of  the  Andes).  As 
successful  cultivated  plants  must  of  necessity  show  such 
fitness  for  the  climatic  and  other  conditions  under  which 
they  are  grown,  we  find  that,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  diversity 

12ti 


MEDITERRANEAN  CULTIVATION  129 

of  the  natural  plant  formations  of  Western  Europe  is  reflected 
in  the  diversity  of  the  cultivated  plants  of  the  different  cUmatic 
regions,  and  their  characteristics  in  those  of  the  latter. 

For  example,  in  the  Mediterranean  region  the  short-lived 
herbaceous  and  bulbous  plants  of  the  maquis  are  replaced 
on  cultivated  ground  by  such  cereals  and  other  annual  crops 
as  can  grow  without  any  great  heat,  but  demand  moisture. 
Such  crops  occupy  the  surface  for  the  cooler  but  rainy  half 
of  the  year,  and  are  reaped  in  spring.  In  summer,  save  where 
irrigation  is  possible,  land  utihsation  takes  the  form  chiefly 
of  a  kind  of  gardening,  fruit-bearing  trees,  especially  the  vine, 
the  oUve,  the  Citrus  fruits,  and  so  forth,  being  extensively 
cultivated,  and  being  so  arranged  that  they  afford  a  succession 
of  crops.  Thus  the  peaches  and  apricots  and  similar  fruits 
ripen  in  August  ;  the  grapes  and  chestnuts  in  September  or 
October ;  the  ohves  in  November.  Often  the  short-hved 
cereal  crops  occupy  the  same  ground  as  the  trees,  and  the 
traveller  will  not  fail  to  note  that  the  corn,  or  the  vegetables, 
or  the  forage  crops  hke  lupin  and  lucerne,  growing  among  the 
trees  of  the  olive  grove  is  the  equivalent,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  physiological  botany,  of  the  anemones,  the  bell 
hyacinths,  and  the  cyclamens  seen  among  the  wild  evergreen 
oaks. 

Obviously  then  again,  except  where  irrigation  is  possible, 
while  water-demanding  plants  can  be  grown  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean area  in  the  cooler  season,  perennial  plants  must  be 
those  capable  of  resisting  the  drought  of  summer,  and  plants 
which  demand  at  once  much  heat  and  much  moisture,  like 
rice  and  sugar-cane,  cannot  be  grown  unless  water  is  arti- 
ficially supphed. 

Further,  as  rich  pasture  does  not  exist  within  the  Mediter- 
ranean region  proper,  save  at  great  elevations,  and  pasture 
generally  is  scanty,  the  pastoral  industries  will  not  pre- 
dominate in  the  lowlands,  and  cattle  especially  will  be  generally 
few.     Goats,  sheep,  and,  where  oak,  chestnut  or  beech  woods 

I 


130  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN 

occur,  pigs  are  the  most  characteristic  animals,  the  sheep 
chiefly  where  considerable  tracts  of  elevated  land  are 
present. 

Let  us  turn  next  to  those  parts  of  Central  Europe  where 
the  chmate  we  have  called  continental  reigns.  Here  culti- 
vated plants  must  be  either  short-Uved,  or,  if  perennial, 
tolerant  of  winter  cold.  If  short-hved,  so  that  the  winter 
cold  does  not  affect  them,  then  the  fact  that  they  require 
a  combination  of  warmth  and  moisture  is  rather  an  advantage 
than  otherwise,  for,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  continental  climate 
rain  tends  to  come  in  summer.  Thus  a  plant  like  maize, 
which  requires  moisture  to  swell  its  huge  stem  and  leaves, 
will  flourish  better  in  parts  of  Central  Europe  than  in  the 
Mediterranean  region.  Generally,  however,  this  region  suffers 
as  compared  with  the  Mediterranean  from  the  fact  that  plant 
growth  is  confined  to  one  part  of  the  year  ;  the  cereal  crops 
ripen  in  summer,  and  only  in  exceptional  cases  is  it  possible 
to  get  two  crops  off  the  same  land,  while  the  simultaneous 
growth  of  two  or  three  kinds  of  plants,  so  common  in  the 
Mediterranean,  is  almost  unknown  here. 

Where  the  plains  of  Central  Europe  abut  upon  the  mountain 
regions,  the  possibihty  of  cultivation  diminishes,  and  the 
mountaineer  is  typically  pastoral,  feeding  his  cattle  on  the 
rich  grassland  of  the  heights. 

In  Central  Europe  man  has  largely  destroyed  the  original 
forest,  starting,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  thinly  wooded  areas, 
the  motive  being  the  desire  to  extend  the  range  of  his  ploughed, 
cereal-producing  fields.  But  where  the  oceanic  chmate  reigns 
to  the  west  and  north-west,  the  very  extensive  deforestation 
has  not  notably  extended  the  zone  of  wheat.  Typically,  the 
oceanic  chmate  is  too  damp,  too  sunless  for  the  more  valuable 
cereals,  and  the  inhabitants  must  grow  the  more  tolerant  and 
less  valuable  forms,  hke  oats,  rye,  and  barley,  with  moisture- 
demanding  plants  hke  potatoes  and  turnips.  Even  so  the 
farmer  finds  at  present  that  his  constantly  watered  land  is 


CULTIVATION  IN  CENTRAL  EUROPE  131 

best  suited  for  pasture,  on  the  low  grounds  for  cattle,  and  on 
the  higher  for  sheep. 

If  we  sum  up  these  facts  in  their  simplest  form  we  may 
say  that  just  as  the  different  climatic  belts  of  Europe  have 
their  characteristic  native  plant  formations,  so  also  they  have 
their  characteristic  cultivated  plants  and  modes  of  land 
utihsation.  In  the  Mediterranean  region  the  land  bears  both 
short-Uved  moisture-demanding  crops  requiring  only  moderate 
temperatures,  such  as  wheat,  vegetables,  fodder  plants,  and 
so  forth,  and  heat-demanding  but  drought-tolerating  trees, 
like  vine,  ohve,  etc.  In  Central  Europe,  only  a  portion  of 
the  year  can  be  used  for  plant  growth,  but  then  both  moisture 
and  warmth  are  available,  and  a  considerable  range  of  crops, 
including  wheat,  is  possible.  On  the  oceanic  border,  and  on 
the  uplands,  cultivation  becomes  difficult,  save  for  hardy 
plants,  and  there  is  a  continual  tendency  for  pastoral  pursuits 
to  predominate. 

So  far,  then,  it  may  seem  that  the  cultivated  plants  do 
but  emphasise  the  conclusions  which  we  have  already  drawn 
from  the  natural  plant  formations — but  they  have  also  a 
deeper  significance,  for  they  determine,  or  once  determined, 
the  possible  modes  of  human  Ufe  within  each  region.  This 
is  a  subject  which  demands  some  consideration,  for  the  full 
meaning  of  the  statement  is  not  at  once  grasped  by  those  who 
have  grown  up  in  a  complex  and  artificial  civihsation.  To  us 
it  may  seem  as  though  man  had  an  almost  infinite  power  of 
modifying  the  conditions  under  which  he  lives,  and  yet  there 
is  no  doubt  that  those  conditions  first  made  him. 

Let  us  elaborate  this  point  a  little.  Most  of  us  are,  or  were 
in  youth,  probably  more  or  less  susceptible  to  the  charm  of  the 
kind  of  book  best  represented  by  Robinson  Crusoe,  but  also — 
if  on  a  very  different  level — by  that  edifying  work  The  Swiss 
Family  Robinson.  Wherein  does  this  charm  lie  ?  It  may  be,  as 
some  psychologists  tell  us,  that  part  of  our  joy  in  the  descrip- 
tions we  find  in  these  books  of  Ufe  in  trees  or  caves  is  due 


132  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN 

to  the  fact  that  our  far-off  ancestors  made  the  great  discovery 
that  in  such  places  could  safety,  shelter,  warmth,  even  an 
elementary  form  of  comfort  be  found.  So  deeply,  they  tell 
us,  has  the  emotion  aroused  by  this  epoch-making  experience 
interpenetrated  our  souls,  that  the  appropriate  stimulus  from 
outside  will  cause  it  to  flood  our  consciousness  with  something 
of  its  first  freshness.  On  this  view  we  obtain  in  reading 
Robinson  Crusoe  something  of  that  primeval  gladness  which 
he  of  the  Early  Stone  Age  felt  when  his  cavern  had  been 
safely  blocked  at  the  mouth,  and  within,  in  the  red  glare  of 
the  fire  and  of  the  smoky  torches,  he  was  safe  from  the  terror 
which  walks  by  night,  and  from  the  known  and  unknown 
dangers  which  lurk  in  the  gloomy  forest. 

But  surely  there  is  more  in  it  than  this — more  even  than  a 
pride  in  human  ingenuity,  a  swelHng  consciousness  of  our 
own  resourcefulness  !  When  we  follow  the  rise  of  Robinson 
Crusoe's  stockade,  or  track,  with  a  dehcate  avoidance  of  the 
didactic  father's  morahsing,  the  progress  of  the  Robinson 
family  from  destitution  to  the  time  when  most  of  the  re- 
sources of  civihsation  proved  within  their  reach,  do  we  not 
feel  that  we  are  following,  in  as  it  were  an  epitome,  the 
history  of  the  human  race,  are  chmbing  the  tree  of  social 
evolution,  are  becoming  conscious  of  fundamental  facts  ? 
Do  we  not  all  of  us  feel  that  the  castaways  are  not  '  playing 
fair  '  when  they  find  in  the  too-useful  ship  necessities  which 
they  ought  to  have  contrived  from  the  contents  of  their 
wonderful  islands  ?  Do  not  unsophisticated  country  people 
still  feel  a  little  shame  in  '  buying  in  a  shop  '  some  article 
which  in  a  more  virile  or  less  sophisticated  age  would  have 
been  home-manufactured  ?  Do  not  all  observant  travellers 
point  out  that  the  first  sign  of  racial  decay  is  the  replacement 
of  the  products  of  native  arts  and  crafts  by  imported  factory- 
made  goods  ? 

Perhaps  this  may  seem  rather  obvious,  but  in  point  of 
fact  only  within  the  last  few  years  have  geographers  dis- 


EFFECTS  OF  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION      133 

covered  that  man  is,  always  and  everywhere,  in  some  sort 
a  Robinson  Crusoe,  using  as  he  can  what  Hes  within  reach 
of  his  hand.  He  and  his  environment  act  and  interact ;  his 
societies  and  institutions  no  less  than  his  material  possessions 
bear  the  mould  of  the  physical  circumstances  under  which 
they  first  arose,  and,  since  human  intelhgence  works  every- 
where along  somewhat  similar  hnes,  and  human  needs  are 
everywhere  more  or  less  the  same,  he  accompUshes  every- 
where approximately  similar  ends  by  diverse  means,  means 
which  reflect  the  physical  conditions  under  which  he  hves, 
and  from  which  the  conditions  can  be  reconstructed  and 
interpreted. 

In  a  sense  of  course  this  is  a  commonplace,  but  a  forgotten 
commonplace  brought  afresh  to  men's  minds  has  all  the 
glory  of  a  new  discovery — indeed  a  greater  glory,  for  by 
definition  it  must  make  a  wider  and  more  immediate  appeal 
than  a  discovery,  which  has  always  to  win  a  slow  and 
grudging  acceptance. 

How  did  this  commonplace  come  to  be  lost  sight  of  ? 
With  the  industrial  revolution,  and  the  resultant  enormous 
development  of  means  of  communication,  the  bonds  of 
space  and  time  with  which  man  had  always  been  fettered 
seemed  to  be  suddenly  loosened.  When  he  could  flash  his 
will  over  the  world  at  large,  when  he  could  travel  with  the 
swiftness  of  a  bird,  when  his  railway  trains  and  steamships 
could  annihilate  space,  the  entire  dependence  of  groups  of 
human  beings  upon  their  immediate  surroundings  seemed 
to  be  gone  for  ever.  In  earher  days  he  must  build  with  the 
materials  at  his  hand,  for  no  others  were,  broadly  speaking, 
obtainable  ;  he  must  depend  for  food  upon  what  he  could 
catch,  rear  or  grow,  or  he  must  starve,  and  necessarily, 
therefore,  his  mode  of  life  varied  with  the  climate  and  physical 
conditions,  and  was  determined  by  them.  But  with  the 
industrial  revolution  this  old  dependence  seemed  to  be  gone, 
more  especially  in  countries  like  our  own,  where  its  effects 


134  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN 

have  been  most  marked.  Throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  British  Islands  the  articles  of  daily  use  are  not  those 
which  are  the  natural  products  of  the  region,  but  those  which 
can  be  obtained  from  the  utmost  ends  of  the  earth,  in  exchange 
for  our  cotton  goods,  machinery  or  coal.  We  hve,  as  it  were, 
no  longer  on  a  definite  patch  of  the  earth's  surface,  by  whose 
•haracters  all  our  activities  are  controlled,  but  in  a  dreamland, 
and  are  served  by  the  dusky  djinns  of  the  coal  mine.  That 
this,  the  condition  into  which  all  living  men  and  women 
have  grown  up,  is  a  speciaHsed  and  not  a  primitive  one,  is 
an  obvious  commonplace,  but  one  nevertheless  which  till 
recently  had  been  forgotten.  The  human  geographers,  or 
anthropogeographers  as  they  love  to  call  themselves,  are  in 
the  act  of  re-discovering  it,  and  their  emphasis  on  what  ought 
to  be,  but  has  ceased  to  be,  the  obvious  adds  at  least  a  new 
interest  to  travel. 

Let  us  look  at  one  or  two  examples  to  illustrate  the  point. 
In  the  valleys  the  Swiss  peasant  builds  himself  a  chalet  of 
wood,  because  this  convenient  building  material  lies  within 
easy  reach.  He  builds  it  with  overhanging  eaves  and 
balconies,  for  wood  must  be  stored  at  hand  for  winter  fuel, 
and  further,  as  the  mists  often  hang  low  for  days  in  the 
valley,  he  wants  a  place  where  late  crops  may  be  sheltered 
from  wet,  and  yet  exposed  to  the  drying  sun  when  it  breaks 
at  last  through  the  clouds.  Though  at  times  he  must  toil 
from  dawn  to  dusk,  there  are  other  periods  of  the  year  when 
he  has  superabundant  leisure,  and  therefore  his  house  and 
its  furniture  may  be  more  or  less  elaborately  carved.  But 
if  the  same  peasant  wishes  to  build  a  new  cheese-making 
shed  high  up  on  the  mountain  side,  he  uses  not  wood  but 
stone,  with  rough  slabs  for  roofing  material.  Why  ?  Be- 
cause no  trees  grow  at  this  elevation,  and  he  himself  is  the 
only  transport  animal  who  can  overcome  the  difficulties  of 
the  ascent.  Wood  he  must  carry  to  heat  his  milk,  but  he 
will  not  needlessly  load  himself  with  building  material  when 


I'LATK  X\J 


One  of  tlie  '  liliick  lumsi-s  '  of  tlu-  Hehiides.  Such  liuiisi-s  art-  dark 
or  almost  ilark,  and  are  often  shared  by  Inunan  hciiigs  and  cuws  in 
common.  Tlie  eliimney  is  a  '  modern  '  improvement.  Tlie  original 
black  houses  had  no  exit  for  the  smoke,  which  was  sup])osed  to 
filt'M-  throngli  the  thatch  of  the  roof,  this  ))cing  later  used  as  manure 
for  the  croft.  Note  that  tiie  house  is  constructed  of  the  materials 
nearest  at  hand,  utilised  in  practically  unmodified  condition. 
(Photo  Inj  Mr.  n.  llxdgr.) 


Old  ami  new  t>  pc  of  liuuscs  in  the  Hel>iidis.  In  Micii  cases  the 
old  black  house  (ht''f  without  a  chimney)  is  kept  for  the  cattle, 
and  there  is  generally  free  internal  communication  between  the 
two  compartments.  The  new  house  is  not  built  of  local  materials. 
(Photii  by  Sir  Liilk  Macken:ic.) 


HIGHLAND  DWELLINGS  135 

the  stones  which  nature  supplies  can  be  made  to  serve. 
Further,  since  the  hut  is  not  a  permanent  dwelling-place, 
but  is  used  only  for  a  short  period  of  the  year,  he  will  waste 
upon  it  no  needless  labour  —  it  will  be  built  to  serve  its 
immediate  purpose  and  with  no  other  end  in  view. 

Turn  from  the  chalets  and  cheese-making  huts  of  the  Alps 
to  the  more  remote  parts  of  the  Scottish  Highlands  with  their 
rude  dwelhngs.  Wood  is  here  scanty,  stone  abundant ;  the 
cottage,  if  so  it  may  be  called,  is  built  of  rough  stone,  is  thatched 
with  the  too-abundant  heather  (Plate  XVI.) ;  its  inner  walls 
are  hned  by  an  ammonia-containing  deposit  given  off  by  the 
burning  peat  in  the  centre,  a  deposit  which  the  frugal  peasant 
scrapes  off  at  intervals  and  uses  to  fertihse  his  httle  croft. 
Thither  also,  and  with  the  same  purpose,  is  transported  from 
time  to  time  the  discarded  thatch,  easily  replaced  by  a  new 
one.  Here  is  an  adaptation  to  the  natural  conditions  as  close 
as  that  of  the  chalet.  But  the  Swiss  peasant  has  not  lost  his 
hold  on  his  surroundings  ;  he  has  shared  in  the  general  rise 
of  prosperity  in  his  country.  He  may  alter  his  methods, 
change  a  Uttle  his  mode  of  hfe,  but  on  the  whole  he  merely 
increases  the  number  of  his  possessions,  or  improves  their 
quahty,  without  greatly  altering  their  nature.  The  High- 
lander, on  the  other  hand,  has  for  the  most  part  lost  his 
original  relation  to  the  natural  conditions,  and  this  is  shown, 
oddly  enough,  in  the  character  of  his  new  dwelhng.  The 
son  in  Glasgow  or  in  Canada  sends  money  home  to  the  old 
folks,  and  it  is  used  not  to  adapt  the  old  dwelhng  to  modern 
needs,  but  to  construct  a  new  one  (Plate  XVI.),  harled  and 
whitewashed,  roofed  with  corrugated  iron,  ugly,  staring,  pro- 
bably not  more  healthy  than  the  old,  and  without  any  trace 
of  that  natural  fitness  which  made  the  thatched  cottage 
'  picturesque  '  against  its  background  of  rocky  slope  and 
heather-clad  hill.  Indeed  the  staring  ughness  of  the  new 
house  shows  that  the  economic  problem  here  has  been  evaded, 
not  faced ;  that  no  longer  is  there  a  natural  interrelation 


136  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN 

between  inhabitants  and  surroundings — they  are  but  pathetic 
paupers  in  a  land  that  once  was  theirs. 

Turn  next  to  the  food  of  the  two  men.  The  Swiss  peasant 
eats  rye  bread.  Why  ?  Rye  is  the  natural  cereal  of  the 
thin  soil,  the  extreme  chmate  of  his  native  valleys.  Further, 
the  meal  has  the  power  of  retaining  its  moisture  for  a  long 
time ;  the  '  black  bread  '  is  baked  only  at  long  intervals. 
The  peasant's  hfe  involves  incessant  migration  from  valley 
to  spring  pasture,  from  spring  pasture  to  high  alp,  from  alp 
to  the  arable  land  far  below.  It  is  therefore  essential  that 
his  staple  food  should  be  one  which  can  be  kept  for  long 
periods,  periods  during  which  the  operation  of  baking  would 
be  difficult.  Supplemented  by  cheese  and  milk,  the  product 
of  his  flocks,  it  is  a  factor  in  his  mobihty. 

Originally  the  Highlander's  staple  showed  the  same  re- 
lation to  natural  conditions.  The  cereal  oats  is  fitted  for 
a  damp,  sunless  chmate,  and  it  is  exceedingly  tolerant  of 
a  peaty  soil,  so  poisonous  to  many  plants.  Though  the 
meal  cannot  be  baked  into  bread,  yet  cooked  in  flat  un- 
leavened '  cakes  '  on  a  girdle,  or  boiled  into  porridge  it  forms 
an  excellent  article  of  diet,  and  we  note  that  both  modes  of 
cooking  are  well  adapted  to  the  open  peat  fire  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor — the  primitive  mode  of  heating  the  cottage. 
When  the  whole  social  economy  of  the  British  Isles  was  upset 
with  the  rise  of  the  factory  system,  the  Highlander,  though 
after  a  considerable  interval,  took  to  eating  wheaten  bread 
hke  the  rest  of  the  community. 

But  white  bread  is  '  bakers'  bread,'  was  never  a  natural 
product,  and  we  have  the,  at  first  sight,  curious  anomaly 
that  while  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  bread  baked  at  home 
in  parts  of  England,  where  the  eating  of  wheaten  bread  is 
an  old-estabHshed  practice,  in  the  Highlands,  as  indeed  in 
Scotland  generally,  the  ability  to  bake  bread  is  a  rare  accom- 
phshment ;  not  because  it  has  been  lost,  as  in  parts  of  England, 
but  because  it  was  never  acquired.     Scones,  oatcakes,  '  barley 


BLACK  BREAD  AND  OATCAKES  137 

bannocks  '  and  so  forth  may  be  baked  at  home  if  the  baker's 
cart  fail  in  the  Highlands,  but  not  bread.  A  pretty  little 
illustration  is  furnished  by  the  comment  of  a  Scottish  country 
body  who  had  been  to  Yorkshire,  and  '  liked  England  fine — nice 
ovens  and  that,'  the  oven  being  a  rarity  in  her  native  village. 

Perhaps  we  may  complete  the  picture  by  pointing  out 
that  when  the  mountain  peasant  in  Central  Europe  becomes 
a  town-dweller  he  eats  wheaten  bread,  if  he  can.  But  no 
sooner  is  the  habit  established  than  sentiment — a  nostalgia 
for  his  mountains — makes  him  long  for  the  food  of  his  fathers, 
and  to  satisfy  his  longing  '  echtes  Bauerbrod  '  appears  in  the 
shops.  The  travelled  pohtician,  with  the  muddled-headed- 
ness  of  his  tribe,  seizes  upon  this  fact,  and  regardless  of  the 
perfectly  plain  truth  that  the  inhabitants  of  Western  Europe 
take  wheaten  bread  as  their  staple  when  they  can — and  are 
probably  justified  on  physiological  grounds  in  so  doing — 
endeavours  to  demonstrate  that  *  black  bread  '  is  always 
a  luxury,  and  not  fundamentally  an  indication  of  poverty. 
In  Lowland  Scotland  now  and  in  England  oatcakes  are  a 
luxury,  but  the  attempt  to  induce  a  Highland  servant  girl 
to  eat  them  in  place  of  white  bread  would  be  fraught  with 
speedy  disaster  ! 

The  point  which  we  are  striving  to  make  clear  is  then 
that  under  '  natural '  conditions  all  human  groups  show  a 
close  relation  to  their  immediate  surroundings,  and  must 
originally  be  self-sufficing  in  so  far  at  least  as  the  essentials 
of  hf e  go.  In  the  industrial  parts  of  Western  Europe  generally, 
and  more  especially  in  Great  Britain,  owing  to  the  early 
development  of  the  factory  system  and  the  enormous  magni- 
tude of  the  overseas  trade,  this  original  relation  has  been 
largely  lost.  Not  only  this,  but  with  us,  even  more  than  on 
the  continent  of  Europe,  though  the  phenomenon  occurs 
there  also,  those  groups  which  have  preserved  more  or  less 
their  original  dependence  on  their  immediate  surroundings, 
are  poor  and  depressed,  as  exemphfied,  for  instance,  in  the 


138  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN 

Scottish  Highlands  and  in  western  Ireland.  Thus  we  have 
come  instinctively  to  consider  them  as  '  backward  '  while 
we  regard  ourselves  as  '  advanced/  There  is  no  doubt  that 
this  judgment  is  partly  an  illusion,  and  recent  developments, 
e.g.  in  '  Celtic '  hterature  in  Ireland,  have  helped  to  show  that 
in  much  that  is  essentially  human  such  groups  stand  higher 
than  those  which  have  grown  rich  by  supplying  cheap  cotton 
cloths  and  Birmingham  goods  to  the  world,  and  have  at  the 
same  time  grown  so  poor  in  greater  possessions. 

It  is  one  of  the  tragedies  of  the  civihsed  world  at  the  present 
time  that,  just  as  the  upheaval  of  the  Alps  brought  disturb- 
ance to  the  stable  lands  to  the  north,  so  the  rise  of  the  industrial 
nations  has  shaken  the  non-industrial  civihsations  to  their 
foundations,  has  turned  what  they  regarded  as  their  wealth 
into  poverty,  their  old  glory  into  their  shame.  But  we  have 
to  remember  that  had  man  been  a  witness  of  the  rise  of  the 
Alps,  as  he  was  a  witness  of  the  devastation  of  the  Ice  Age, 
he  must  have  thought  that  here  at  least  was  a  disaster  whose 
horror  was  unredeemed.  Yet  from  both  these  great  crises 
sprang  the  possibihties  of  human  civiHsation  as  we  know  it. 
So  may  we  hope  in  that  great  social  disturbance  which  we 
call  the  industrial  revolution  some  future  good  lies  hidden. 
Meantime  our  immediate  purpose  is  to  trace,  as  it  is  revealed 
in  agriculture  and  land  utihsation,  some  indication  of  what 
civihsation  in  Europe  was  before,  Uke  some  of  the  mountains 
of  the  Alps,  it  ceased  to  have  roots  in  mother  earth  ;  to  trace 
also  some  of  the  processes  by  which  the  non-industrial  nations 
are  seeking  to  readjust  themselves  to  changed  times. 


CHAPTER  XII 

VINEYARD,    OLIVE   GROVE,    AND   GARDEN  :     THE 
OLD   CONDITIONS   AND   THE   NEW 

'  I  went  down  into  the  garden  of  nut3  to  sec  the  fruits  of  the  valley, 
and  to  see  whether  the  vine  flourished  and  the  pomegranates  budded.' 

The  cultivated  plants  of  a  particular  locality,  we  have 
suggested  in  the  previous  chapter,  show  necessarily  some 
adaptation  to  that  particular  area,  are  in  some  sort  a  reflec- 
tion of  it.  But  this  is  not  to  say  that  the  crops  of  a  district 
represent  the  only  ones  which  could  be  grown  there.  Often 
this  is  very  far  from  being  the  case.  What  determines  the 
farmer's  selection  of  certain  crops  out  of  all  those  which  the 
climate  permits  him  to  grow  ?  We  shall  devote  this  chapter 
to  an  attempt  to  answer  this  question. 

Primitively,  it  seems  clear,  no  region  can  be  permanently 
inhabited  unless  it  yields  to  its  inhabitants  the  great  neces- 
sities of  life.  We  must  here  interpret  primitively  as  meaning 
— before  the  development  of  trade  and  adequate  means  of 
communication,  for  obviously  there  are  now  many  perma- 
nently inhabited  regions  which  yield  almost  none  of  the 
necessities  of  life.  We  need  not  go  so  far  as  the  goldfields 
of  Western  Austraha,  or  the  nitrate  deserts  of  Chili  in  search 
of  examples,  for  the  hospices  of  the  high  Alpine  passes,  the 
meteorological  stations  of  many  isolated  hills,  e.g.  of  the 
Santis,  are  famiUar  cases,  to  say  nothing  of  the  artificially 
steriUsed  towns. 

Further,  not  only  the  region  in  the  broad  sense,  but  in  at 
least  the  more  primitive  types  of  communities,  the  family 


140      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

group  tends,  as  we  have  seen,  to  be  self-sufficing.  The  aim 
of  the  early  agriculturist,  that  is,  is  to  produce  first  of  all, 
so  far  as  he  can,  sufficient  to  provide  for  the  needs  of  his 
household.  One  of  the  most  important  of  these  needs  is, 
obviously,  food.  In  Europe  at  least,  some  cereal  almost 
always  forms  the  basal  food  supply,  but  the  particular  cereal 
employed  depends  upon  the  chmatic  and  other  factors  domi- 
nant in  the  district.  The  same  statement  appHes  of  course 
to  all  other  needs— the  constituents  of  the  clothing,  material 
for  house-building,  fuel,  and  so  forth.  We  thus  arrive  at 
the  conception  of  a  number  of  regions,  in  each  of  which  a 
special  mode  of  hfe  exists,  dependent  upon  the  products  of 
the  region,  natural  or  artificial. 

But  the  family  group  can  rarely  be  the  highest  unit.  In 
the  general  case  it  is  itself  a  unit  in  a  larger  grouping,  whose 
members  have  common  needs.  These  common  needs  must 
be  satisfied  ultimately  by  the  surplus  crops.  Obviously  it 
matters  very  httle  whether,  as  in  parts  of  the  Alps,  the 
husbandman  puts  in  so  many  days'  work  on  the  roads,  paths 
and  irrigation  channels  in  the  year,  or  whether,  as  is  more 
generally  the  case,  he  submits  to  a  levy  which  pays  the  wages 
of  special  roadmen,  etc.  In  both  cases  his  working  days  on 
his  land  must  result  in  a  yield  greater  than  that  necessary 
to  support  him  and  his  household  during  the  working  period. 
Thus  we  must  not  think  of  even  the  simplest  type  of  com- 
munity as  producing  only  enough  for  the  needs  of  its  working 
members  and  their  households.  There  must  necessarily  be 
a  surplus. 

In  the  simpler  cases,  however,  the  surplus  must  be  regarded 
as  primarily  for  the  use  of  the  surrounding  district.  In 
addition  to  its  agriculturists  the  community  will  normally 
contain  a  number  of  non-agriculturists,  including  craftsmen 
of  various  kinds,  who  must  be  suppUed  with  the  necessities 
of  Hfe  out  of  the  surplus  products.  But  their  mode  of  Ufe 
does  not  differ  notably  from  that  of  the  agriculturists  from 


SELF-SUFFICING  COMMUNITIES  141 

whom  they  have  arisen.  They  eat  approximately  the  same 
food,  wear  similar  clothes,  and  so  forth,  and  thus  constitute 
a  local  market.  Similarly,  other  charges  on  the  husbandman, 
such  as  rent,  taxes,  and  so  forth  can  be  met  by  the  sale  of 
surplus  products  in  the  adjacent  market,  and  minor  variations 
in  chmate,  elevation,  soil,  etc.,  will  always  stimulate  local 
exchange. 

To  take  an  example,  the  peasant  in  the  tributary  valleys 
of  the  Rhone  in  the  canton  Valais  in  Switzerland  grows  the 
vine  and  some  fruit  in  the  warm  lands  close  to  the  main 
valley.  Rye  and  vegetables,  with  flax,  hemp  and  so  forth, 
he  cultivates  in  the  fields  at  higher  levels.  The  pastures, 
which  constitute  otherwise  unutilisable  land,  supply  the 
needs  of  his  flocks  and  herds,  and  each  household  or  family 
group  possesses  or  rents  lands  at  the  various  levels,  so  that 
each  is  approximately  self-sufficing.  The  forests  supply 
material  for  house-building  and  fuel,  the  surplus  yield  of  the 
flocks,  itself  due  to  the  abundant  summer  growth  of  grass  on 
the  high  pastures,  is  disposed  of  to  give  the  small  amount  of 
money  required  for  the  essential  outlays,  and  is  for  the  most 
part  sold  to  a  more  or  less  steady  adjacent  market. 

This  condition  of  balance,  more  or  less  preserved  in  the 
Valais,  has  been  badly  shaken  in  many  other  parts  of  the 
mountain  regions  of  Central  Europe,  more  especially  at 
those  levels  and  in  those  regions  where  the  conditions  are 
less  favourable  to  the  pastoral  industries,  and  yet  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  more  valuable  crops  is  difficult  and  precarious. 

An  interesting  example,  whi'  h  has  been  recently  the 
object  of  a  special  study  by  a  French  geographer,  is  found 
in  a  part  of  the  southern  Jura,  the  tract  cut  ofE  from  the 
main  chain  by  the  river  Ain,  and  called  Revermont,  that  is, 
'  the  mountain  slope.'  The  region  faces  the  plains  of  the 
Bresse,  and  owed  its  prosperity  once  to  the  fact  that  here, 
as  contrasted  alike  with  the  higher  slopes  of  the  mountains, 
and  with  the  heavy  clays  of  the  low  ground,  the  vine  could 


142      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE  AND  GARDEN 

be  cultivated.  Fertile  tracts  are  rare  on  the  slope,  but 
each  family  group  in  the  older  days  possessed  enough  land  to 
yield  food  for  the  household  and  the  beasts,  and  had  in 
addition  a  vineyard.  In  the  first  place  this  vineyard  yielded 
wine  for  the  needs  of  the  family ;  secondly,  owing  to  the 
special  circumstances,  it  supplied  the  demands  of  the  sur- 
rounding districts,  where  the  cultivators  could  not  produce 
the  crop.  Thus  the  vineyard  yielded  a  '  money  crop.'  But 
the  wine  is  not  very  good,  and  the  local  market  accepted  it 
largely  faute  de  mieux,  because  difficulties  of  communication, 
local  dues  and  other  causes  made  it  impossible  to  obtain 
the  more  prized  sorts.  The  devastation  caused  by  phylloxera 
precipitated  a  crisis  which  had  been  long  impending.  The 
population  which  had,  as  it  were,  been  confined  to  its  moun- 
tain originally  by  local  protection,  once  all  barriers  were 
removed  flowed  hke  a  stream  from  the  slopes  with  their 
blasted  vines  down  to  the  more  fertile  plain,  leaving  deserted 
dwellings  and  even  villages  as  a  monument  to  earlier 
conditions. 

In  this  case  the  diminution  of  population  within  a  limited 
area  has  been  very  striking,  rising,  it  is  said,  to  57  per  cent. 
in  the  case  of  one  commune.  The  people  who  remain  are 
turning  more  and  more  to  pastoral  industries,  which  will, 
it  is  beheved,  bring  back  ultimately  some  of  the  lost  popula- 
tion to  the  denuded  lands. 

But  if  the  particular  example  is  a  very  striking  one,  we 
have  to  remember  that  the  phenomenon  in  more  or  less 
marked  form  is  all  but  universal  in  Western  Europe.  Primi- 
tively, let  us  repeat,  the  husbandman  is  self-supporting,  and 
such  money  as  he  requires  is  obtained  by  the  sale  of  the 
surplus  of  the  crop  which  he  can  most  easily  produce,  or 
for  which  there  is  the  greatest  demand.  This  surplus  must 
generally,  though  not  always,  be  got  rid  of  in  a  local  market, 
whose  original  advantage  was  its  steadiness.  Obviously 
then  any  great  improvement  in  the  means  of  communication, 


INDUSTRIALISED  COMMUNITIES  143 

which  permits  the  local  market  to  be  supplied  with  the 
better  or  cheaper  products  of  a  distant  region,  must  be  a 
disaster  to  the  primitive  type  of  husbandman,  a  disaster 
whose  magnitude  is  measured  by  the  extent  and  rapidity 
of  the  change.  Now,  as  we  have  seen,  within  the  last  hundred 
years  or  so  there  has  been  a  revolution  of  the  first  importance 
in  methods  of  communication,  and  simultaneously  a  great 
development  of  new  and  often  highly  fertile  lands  ;  the 
necessary  result  has  been  to  modify  greatly  the  forms  of  land 
utilisation  in  all  but  exceptionally  isolated  areas. 

How  could  the  husbandman  adapt  himself  most  naturally 
to  the  changed  conditions  ?  We  have  seen  that  Western 
Europe  is  a  region  where,  within  a  small  area,  we  have  a 
great  variety  of  chmates  and  of  surface.  It  is  also  a  region 
where  agriculture  has  been  carried  on  for  a  prolonged  period, 
and  where  there  is  an  accumulated  mass  of  knowledge  and 
tradition  relating  both  to  methods  and  to  local  conditions. 
An  obvious  possibility  then  is  for  the  agriculturist  in  any 
given  area  to  abandon  his  primitive  form  of  cultivation  and 
to  devote  himself,  either  largely  or  exclusively,  to  certain 
particular  crops  for  which  his  land  is  pecuharly  fitted,  and 
for  which  a  ready  market  is  obtainable. 

This  is  the  condition  to  which  in  our  own  country  we  are 
all,  more  or  less,  accustomed.  The  average  farmer,  large 
or  small,  does  not  produce  crops  which  are  primarily  related 
to  his  own  needs  ;  his  primary  crops  are  money  crops,  so 
literally  that  sometimes  his  children  starve  in  the  midst  of 
plenty.  We  still  talk,  or  at  least  the  novelists  do,  of  the 
rich  cream  and  milk  to  be  got  '  in  the  country.'  Those 
who  have  Uved  in  the  country  know  that  the  poor  man's 
child  there  has  far  less  opportunity  of  tasting  milk  than  his 
brother  of  the  slums,  and  malnutrition,  both  in  child  and 
adult,  is  a  not  uncommon  phenomenon. 

In  the  Channel  Islands  the  cultivators  are  extraordinarily 
skilful  and  industrious,  but  it  is  said  by  school  teachers  there 


144      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

that  the  children  are  often  insufficiently  fed,  for  the  grapes, 
the  tomatoes,  the  early  vegetables,  and  so  forth,  produced  on 
the  holding  are  far  too  valuable  for  home  use,  and  are  luxuries, 
not  necessities.  Thus  every  particle  of  food  may  have  to 
be  bought,  and  that  in  a  district  where  rents  are  very  high. 
The  writer  well  remembers  a  visit  made  to  Guernsey  in  spring, 
when  a  member  of  the  party  naively  instructed  the  landlady 
that  early  vegetables  were  to  be  a  feature  of  the  daily  menu. 
The  landlady's  first  efiorts  proved  a  disappointment  and  the 
bill  a  most  unpleasant  surprise,  so  that  she  was  constrained  to 
give  the  visitors  an  elementary  lesson  in  political  economy 
by  pointing  out  that  the  vegetables  were  grown  for  the 
London  market,  and  were  practically  unobtainable  retail 
in  the  island. 

The  conditions  in  the  Valais  and  in  the  Channel  Islands 
may  be  said  to  represent  two  extremes,  the  money  crop  on 
the  one  hand,  as  contrasted  with  the  crop  fundamentally  for 
home  consumption  on  the  other.  In  Western  Europe  generally 
it  is  more  common  to  find  intermediate  stages. 

The  point  which  one  has  to  keep  in  view  is  that  everywhere 
in  Europe  agriculture  has  been  disturbed  by  the  industrial 
revolution,  the  disturbance  having  been  here  greater  and 
here  less.  Everywhere  therefore  one  can  observe  traces  of 
the  past,  indications  of  hnes  of  future  development,  and 
much  of  the  interest  of  the  subject  hes  in  the  following  up 
of  the  two  tendencies. 

Broadly  speaking,  one  may  say  that  remnants  of  old  condi- 
tions are  seen  where  a  multipUcity  of  crops  occurs.  In  the 
valleys  of  the  Alps  one  may  find  small  patches  of  cultivated 
ground,  where  rye,  flax,  hemp,  beans,  lucerne,  hay,  and 
other  crops  occur  in  small  quantities  within  a  hmited  area. 
This  is  certainly  a  primitive  condition.  A  similar  multi- 
plicity of  crops  occurs  generally  within  the  Mediterranean 
area,  where,  owing  to  the  special  conditions,  several  crops, 
as  we  have  seen,  may  occupy  the  ground  at  the  same  time. 


MONOCULTURE  AND  POLYCULTURE    145 

Starting  from  the  conditioas  suggested  in  the  Alpine 
valleys  we  have  divergence  in  two  main  directions.  In  the 
central  plain  of  Europe,  where  the  conditions  are  uniform 
over  large  areas,  the  tendency  is  to  concentrate  upon  one 
crop  to  which  wholesale  methods  can  be  apphed.  Examples 
are  the  vast  areas  given  to  sugar-beet  in  north  France  and 
parts  of  the  German  plain,  the  great  fields  of  turnips  in  parts 
of  England,  of  barley  in  beer-producing  districts,  and  so  forth. 
This  is  a  condition  to  which  we  are  so  much  accustomed  that 
its  strangeness  fails  to  strike  us. 

In  other  words,  the  tendency  in  Central  Europe  and  in  the 
less  mountainous  parts  of  the  north,  in  correspondence  with 
the  uniform  soil  and  climate,  is  to  concentrate  upon  a  few 
crops  grown  on  the  large  scale.  In  the  Mediterranean  region 
and  on  the  southern  slopes  of  the  Alps  the  climate  varies 
much  within  small  areas,  and  the  conditions  of  soil  and 
surface  also  vary.  Here  the  original  multiplicity  of  crops  is 
more  or  less  preserved,  but  the  more  prosperous  regions  take 
advantage  of  local  peculiarities  of  soil  or  climate  to  produce, 
by  intensive  methods  and  in  small  amoimts,  crops  which  are 
difficult  to  grow  and  command  proportionately  high  prices. 
Thus  even  in  agriculture  there  is  a  contrast  between  the 
plains  of  the  industrial  centre,  with  their  steam  ploughs, 
steam  threshers,  and  generally  their  compUcated  machinery, 
and  the  ancient  south,  with  its  load  of  tradition,  where  the 
women  superintend  the  deUcate  operations  of  silkworm 
breeding,  while  the  men  toil  in  the  sun  in  their  tiny  patches 
of  cherished  earth,  painfully  terraced  out  of  the  blazing 
hillside. 

But  we  must  not  overstrain  the  contrast,  for  where  in 
Central  Europe  uplands  occur,  as  in  Burgundy,  the  Middle 
Rhine  valley,  and  so  forth,  there  the  laborious  methods 
proper  to  sloping  ground  reappear,  and  further,  the  special 
conditions  which  prevail  in  those  great  '  wens,'  the  modern 
cities,  give  rise  to  a  ring  of  intensive  cultivation  round  the 

K 


146      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

town,  which  sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  Paris,  attains  great 
width.  Conversely,  the  presence  of  vast  uniform  plains  in 
certain  parts  of  the  south,  e.g.  the  Plain  of  Lombardy  with 
its  extensive  rice-fields,  gives  rise  to  the  mid-European  type 
of  cultivation,  and  causes  Milan  to  be  a  mid-European  rather 
than  an  Itahan  town. 

The  wholesale  production  of  a  few  crops,  the  intensive 
cultivation  of  a  considerable  number  of  special  plants,  these 
are  the  poles  between  which  agriculture  in  Western  Europe 
swings,  under  the  compelHng  influence  of  the  new  lands 
across  the  sea,  brought  wdthin  reach  by  modern  steamboats. 
Where  the  conditions  of  chmate  are  relatively  unfavourable 
to  both,  the  tendency  is  to  concentrate  upon  the  pastoral 
industries,  the  compelhng  influence  here  being  the  great 
demand  for  meat  on  the  part  of  the  industrial  populations, 
and  the  supphes  of  f  eeding-stufis  poured  in  by  the  new  nations. 
The  study  of  the  resulting  unstable  equihbrium  is  one  of 
absorbing  interest. 

As  an  example  of  the  Unes  along  which  observation  may 
be  profitably  directed,  we  shall  discuss  here  the  conditions 
which  prevail  in  the  Mediterranean  region  and  its  margins, 
under  both  primitive  and  modified  conditions. 

As  a  starting-point  we  can  scarcely  do  better  than  give  a 
quotation  from  PhiUppson's  Mittelmeergebiet  deahng  with 
the  plants  grown  in  the  region,  though  this  involves  a  certain 
amount  of  repetition  in  view  of  what  has  been  already  said  in 
regard  to  these  plants. 

Phihppson  says  '  they '  (that  is,  the  cultivated  plants  of 
the  region)  '  are  either  such  plants  as  complete  their  growth 
and  come  to  maturity  in  the  rainy  season,  or  are  woody 
plants,  organised,  in  one  or  other  of  the  ways  already  de- 
scribed, for  the  endurance  of  the  summer  drought.  But  in 
the  course  of  thousands  of  years  man  has  added  to  these 
indigenous  forms  a  great  number  of  cultivated  plants,  brought 
from  the  mountains  or  from  foreign  lands,  which  exhibit  the 


FOOD  OF  MEDITERRANEAN  MAN  147 

peculiarity  of  needing  the  heat  of  summer  to  mature,  but  are 
yet  unable  to  tolerate  its  drought.  To  these  exotics  it  is 
necessary  to  supply  by  artificial  watering  during  the  summer 
season  the  necessary  moisture  which  the  heavens  deny  to 
them.  To  the  first  group,  which  can  also  thrive  in  arid 
regions,  belong  the  most  important  food  plants  and  others 
which  from  the  earhest  times  have  served  as  the  basis  of 
human  society  in  the  region.  To  the  second  group,  that  of 
the  introduced  forms,  belong  for  the  most  part  luxuries  and 
plants  of  technical  importance  which,  though  they  may  have 
become  of  great  importance  in  agriculture,  yet  cannot  be 
counted  as  absolute  necessities.  The  three  most  important 
and  earliest-grown  plants  of  the  Mediterranean  region  are 
the  cereals  (barley  and  wheat),  the  olive  and  the  vine,  none 
of  which  requires  artificial  watering  in  the  Mediterranean 
region.  .  .  .  Bread,  wine  and  oil  remain  up  to  the  present 
day  the  most  indispensable  constituents  of  the  diet  of  the 
inhabitant  of  the  Mediterranean,  except  where  Islam  has 
brought  about  the  prohibition  of  wine.  Bread,  together 
with  some  vegetable  flavouring-matter,  especially  onions  or 
garlic,  often  enough  constitutes  the  whole  dinner  of  the  poor 
man ;  wine  is  the  people's  drink,  not  as  with  us  a  luxury. 
Olive  oil  takes  the  same  place  as  butter  with  us  ;  it  supphes 
the  fat  necessary  in  a  complete  diet,  for  meat  is  eaten  very 
sparingly  or  not  at  all.  Further,  it  is  used  with  almost  every 
cooked  dish,  and  is  eaten  raw  with  salad  or  even  with  bread.' 
Salad,  we  may  say  here  in  order  to  complete  the  account 
of  Mediterranean  man's  diet,  plays  a  far  more  important  part 
than  with  us,  an  importance  which  it  has  also,  of  course, 
practically  throughout  France.  But  while  in  France,  with 
a  generally  abundant  rainfall  and  fertile  soil,  lettuce,  endive 
and  similar  salad  plants  are  grown  everywhere,  in  Italy  a 
variety  of  substitutes,  generally  unpalatable  to  the  foreigner, 
are  much  employed.  Dandehon  is  a  favourite,  and  the  author 
has  a  vivid  recollection  of  once,  during  a  stroll  in  the  Alps, 


148      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

emerging  on  a  pasture  where  were  many  huts  used  to  house 
the  Itahan  workmen  engaged  in  constructing  some  one  or 
other  of  the  high  mountain  railways.  It  was  near  the  midday 
meal  hour,  and  a  diUgent  workman  was  busy  with  a  penknife 
scouring  the  pasture  in  search  of  dandelion.  Even  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, one  would  suppose,  would  have  found  such  a  diet 
scanty  at  an  elevation  of  seven  thousand  feet  or  so,  but  the 
persistence  of  a  national  taste  under  such  changed  conditions 
was  interesting. 

PhiUppson  goes  on  to  point  out  that  in  the  fact  that  the 
three  essential  kinds  of  plants  can  be  grown  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean area  without  artificial  watering,  this  region  has  an 
advantage  over  Egypt,  Mesopotamia,  and  so  forth,  where  no 
cultivation  is  possible  without  irrigation.  The  contrast,  as 
he  indicates,  is  well  brought  out  in  the  verses  in  Deuteronomy, 
'  For  the  land,  whither  thou  goest  in  to  possess  it,  is  not  as 
the  land  of  Egypt  whence  ye  came  out,  where  thou  sowedst 
thy  seed,  and  wateredst  it  with  thy  foot,^  as  a  garden  of 
herbs  :  but  the  land  whither  ye  go  over  to  possess  it,  is  a 
land  of  hills  and  valleys,  and  drinketh  water  of  the  rain  of 
heaven  :  a  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  careth  for  ;  the 
eyes  of  the  Lord  thy  God  are  always  upon  it,  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  even  unto  the  end  of  the  year." 

The  last  clause  is  shghtly  exaggerated,  for  the  land  of 
Palestine  is  far  from  drinking  water  of  the  rain  of  heaven 
throughout  the  year,  but  the  general  contrast  between  the 
Mediterranean  and  true  arid  lands  is  well  brought  out. 

Let  us  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  land  of  Egypt  '  whence 
ye  came  out/  and  note  the  crops  there.  In  Egypt  there  is 
virtually  no  rain,  but  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  mighty  river 
afiords  a  natural  means  of  watering  the  land.  The  flood 
occurs  from  about  August  to  November,  and  during  this 
time  much  land  is  under  water,  and  therefore  useless.     The 

'  That  is,  by  raising  water  from  the  irrigation  channels  by  mechanical 
means. 


EGYPTIAN  AGRICULTURE  149 

areas  above  water  level  yield  small  crops  of  maize,  rice,  millet, 
and  so  forth,  not  of  very  great  importance  in  the  peasant's 
economy.  As  the  water  drains  off,  however,  in  the  autumn, 
he  is  able  to  sow  on  the  moistened  land  his  essential  crops, 
especially  food  crops,  such  as  wheat,  barley,  peas  and  beans, 
clover  to  improve  the  land  and  feed  the  oxen  and  asses  used 
in  ploughing,  with  flax  for  clothing — generally  the  crops 
required  for  home  use.  Where  conditions  are  favourable  a 
margin  for  export,  notably  of  the  cereals,  is  yielded.  But 
great  prosperity  does  not  come  until  perennial  irrigation 
can  be  employed,  that  is,  until  it  is  possible  by  means  of  dams 
and  barrages  to  water  the  land  in  summer,  during  the  period 
of  low  Nile.  Where  summer  crops  are  grown  cotton  pre- 
dominates, and  cotton  is  purely  a  money  crop,  the  object  of 
whose  cultivation  is  the  obtaining  of  money  for  the  payment 
of  taxes,  etc.  Thus,  employing  our  previous  phraseology, 
we  may  say  that  the  Egyptian  peasant  carries  on  a  primi- 
tive form  of  agriculture  during  winter,  for  then  he  grows 
plants  primarily  for  his  own  use,  and  a  specialised  form  in 
summer  where  perennial  irrigation  is  possible,  the  summer 
crop  being  chiefly. grown  for  a  distant  market,  and  having 
no  immediate  significance  in  the  life  of  the  cultivator.  Inci- 
dentally we  may  note  that  it  was  only  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  that  he  was  taught  by  his  masters  to  devote  attention 
to  the  cotton  crop,  for  he  has  all  the  agriculturist's  aversion 
to  change. 

Turn  now  to  the  Mediterranean  region.  Here  conditions 
differ  only  in  that  the  winter  rainfall  generally  suffices  for 
the  growth  of  cereals,  this  winter  rain  replacing  the  soaking 
which  the  lands  of  Egypt  receive  in  the  old  method  of  basin 
irrigation.  In  summer  the  majority  of  crops  can  only  be 
grown  with  irrigation,  but  the  Mediterranean  peasant  again 
gains  in  that  two  of  his  plants,  the  vnne  and  the  olive,  as  we 
have  seen,  will  prosper  without  irrigation  even  in  summer. 

Now  the  winter  crops  do  not  normally  yield  any  consider- 


150      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

able  margin  for  export.  Greece  and  Italy  now,  as  in  classical 
times,  cannot  produce  enough  wheat  for  their  own  use,  and 
only  in  specially  favoured  parts  of  the  region  is  there  any 
considerable  excess  of  this  crop.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
vineyards  and  ohve  groves  throughout  the  region  generally 
yield  a  surplus  after  local  demands  are  satisfied.  For,  olive 
oil  outside  the  area  the  demand  is  but  moderate,  for  in  colder 
climates  its  place  in  the  dietary  is  taken  by  the  more  digestible 
fat  contained  in  butter.  Wine,  on  the  other  hand,  constitutes 
a  valuable  product  of  Mediterranean  lands.  Even  in  regard 
to  it,  however,  we  have  to  notice  that  the  most  prized  sorts 
are  for  the  most  part  produced  outside  the  actual  Mediter- 
ranean area,  for  the  high  winter  temperatures  there  render 
it  difficult  to  store  the  wine,  and  prevent  it  from  maturing 
properly.  Still,  with  all  reserves  made,  we  have  to  accept 
wine  and  olive  oil  as  among  the  more  important  surplus 
products  of  the  Mediterranean  husbandman.  The  wine 
trade  in  its  turn  brings,  especially  in  the  west,  a  considerable 
trade  in  cork,  due  to  the  prevalence  of  the  cork  oak  there 
(p.  86). 

Both  vine  and  ohve,  however,  are  liable  to  a  variety  of 
diseases,  which  cause  great  loss.  In  regard  to  the  vine  it 
is  of  interest  to  note  that  while,  as  we  have  said,  the  product 
of  the  highest  commercial  value  is  obtained  outside  the 
Mediterranean  area,  and  in  places  where  the  plant  is  nearing 
its  natural  limit  of  growth,  it  is  just  here  that  the  damage 
done  by  phylloxera  has  been  greatest.  It  is  sometimes 
stated  that  it  is  true  of  cultivated  plants  in  general  that 
the  finest  product  is  obtained  where  the  particular  plant 
concerned  is  approaching  the  natural  hmit  of  its  distribution. 
Thus,  we  are  told,  the  finest  wheat  in  the  world  is  produced 
in  those  parts  of  Canada  where  the  cultivation  of  the  plant 
is  just  possible  in  a  normal  season ;  Scottish  strawberries 
are  maintained  by  the  local  market  gardeners  to  be  infinitely 
superior  to  those  produced  across  the  border,  and  so  forth. 


PHYLLOXERA  AND  THE  VINE  151 

Such  statements  require  always  to  be  accepted  with 
caution,  for  the  persons  making  them  have  often  an  economic 
motive  at  the  back  of  their  strength  of  conviction — though 
a  cynic  might  say  that  all  very  strongly  held  convictions 
have  such  an  economic  basis.  But  the  case  of  the  vine  is 
interesting,  for  it  seems  to  shed  some  light  on  the  basis  of 
truth  which  under hes  the  assertion. 

Obviously  if  a  plant  is  growing  in  a  region  which  is  near 
its  natural  Umit,  it  requires  to  be  grown  with  special  care, 
and  further,  as  the  risk  of  failure  is  always  within  sight,  it  is 
only  worth  while  to  grow  the  finest  sorts  and  these  only  where 
the  situation  is  specially  favourable.  The  yield  of  wheat  per 
acre  of  the  wheatfields  in  eastern  England  is  greater  than 
that  in  the  wheat  zone  of  Russia.  But  before  putting  this 
fact  down  exclusively  to  the  superiority  of  the  Englishman, 
we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  Enghsh  farmer  does  not  grow 
wheat  except  where  he  can  get  a  very  high  yield — it  would 
not  pay  else  to  try  the  crop. 

Where  human  ingenuity  is  directed  for  a  prolonged  period 
to  one  problem,  such  as  that  of  getting  in  eastern  France 
crops  of  grapes  suitable  for  the  finest  wine,  then  we  find  that 
almost  marvellous  results  are  obtained — but  there  is  always 
a  menace  behind.  Fundamentally  the  cultivator  is  building 
a  sand  dam  against  the  ocean,  and  his  barriers  are  always 
Uable  to  collapse ;  in  other  words,  plants  growing  near  their 
natural  hmit  are  excessively  Uable  to  disease.  The  same 
thing  is  true  of  course  of  animals — witness  the  silkworm 
disease  in  southern  France, 

In  consequence  phylloxera  has  caused  the  greatest  damage 
rather  on  the  borders  of  the  Mediterranean  zone  than  within 
it,  though  even  within  the  area  its  effects  have  not  been 
neghgible.  Its  ravages  have  made  it  necessary  for  the 
farmer  to  have  a  second  line  of  defence  to  fall  back 
upon. 

As  we  have  aheady  indicated,  he  has  always  grown  a  number 


152      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

of  the  more  delicate  fruits,  either  with  artificial  watering,  or 
in  the  damper  regions  without  this.  Many  of  these  yield  a 
surplus  available  for  export.  Here,  however,  various  condi- 
tions have  to  be  considered.  The  market  must  necessarily 
be  a  fairly  distant  one,  for  save  in  the  vicinity  of  large  towns, 
and  very  large  towns  are  infrequent  in  the  Mediterranean 
region,  there  will  be  no  general  demand  for  crops  which  can 
be  produced  all  but  universally.  Here,  we  may  note,  is 
another  factor  influencing  the  question  aheady  discussed, 
of  the  value  of  crops  grown  near  their  natural  chmatic  limit. 
In  the  case  of  delicate  crops,  those  growing  near  the  margin 
of  their  natural  zone  have  the  great  advantage  of  being  close 
to  a  non-producing  region,  and  therefore  close  to  a  possibly 
valuable  market.  The  lemon  gardens  on  Lake  Garda  repre- 
sent a  crop  which,  owing  to  specially  favourable  conditions, 
can  be  grown  north  of  its  natural  zone ;  the  extra  care 
necessary  in  producing  the  crop  is  probably  compensated 
for  by  the  proximity  of  the  market  furnished  by  the  adjacent 
non-lemon-producing  regions. 

Since  the  market  for  southern  fruits  is  generally  a  more 
or  less  distant  one,  the  two  most  important  factors  which 
affect  the  trade  are  necessarily  the  ease  and  rapidity  with 
which  that  market  can  be  reached,  and  the  keeping  quahties 
of  the  product.  The  fruits  can  be  considered  under  three 
headings  : — those  which  are  perishable  in  the  fresh  state ; 
those  which  can  be  readily  dried  or  preserved  ;  those  which, 
owing  to  the  hard  shell  or  coat,  have  great  keeping  properties. 

Into  the  first  group  fall  such  fruits  as  peaches,  apricots, 
pears,  the  thin-skinned  varieties  of  grapes,  and  so  on.  Such 
fruits  can,  as  a  rule,  only  be  grown  with  a  prospect  of  success 
near  the  consuming  countries,  and  near  main  through  routes. 
Further,  the  fact  that  they  have  to  compete  against  the  finer 
products  of  glasshouse  cultivation  in  the  north  tends  to  keep 
down  prices.  Two  regions  which  will  occur  to  most  travellers 
as   eminently   fruit-producing   are   Provence   and   the   area 


MEDITERRANEAN  FRUITS  153 

round  Meran  and  Botzen  (c/.  p.  57).  In  both  cases  the 
proximity  to  great  through  routes  is  striking. 

As  regards  the  second  group,  the  Mediterranean  climate, 
with  its  dry  summer,  is  eminently  suited  for  the  drying  of 
fruit,  and  raisins,  currants,  and  figs  may  be  named  as  fruits 
of  Mediterranean  origin,  highly  prized  by  the  more  northern 
nations.  The  Mediterranean  monopoly  of  these  is  only  now 
being  threatened  in  America  and  elsewhere.  As  to  other 
methods  of  preservation,  apart  from  the  interesting  case 
of  the  tough-skinned  grapes  of  Valencia,  packed  in  the  cork 
dust  which  is  a  by-product  of  the  cork  industry  of  Spain,  the 
great  home  of  the  cork  oak,  the  most  obvious  preservative 
is  sugar.  Of  more  recent  origin  is  the  use  of  cold  in  the 
form  of  cold  storage.  Let  us  take  the  latter  first.  The 
presence  of  cold  storage  chambers  on  the  large  Uners  makes 
it  possible  to  transport  perishable  fruits  over  long  distances 
by  sea  (Cape  plums,  etc.).  In  the  United  States  of  America 
similar  cold  storage  chambers  are  carried  on  trains,  and 
render  possible  the  transport  of  perishable  commodities  by 
land.  To  a  small  extent  this  formerly  occurred  in  Russia  ; 
in  Western  Europe  it  is  as  yet  very  sUghtly  developed — 
a  fact  which  must  diminish  the  market  for  Mediterranean 
fruits. 

Sugar  as  a  preservative  is  relatively  httle  used  within  the 
Mediterranean  region,  a  fact  of  great  interest.  It  is,  to  the 
writer's  mind,  one  of  the  most  curious  sights  of  the  Riviera 
towns  to  see  in  the  shop  windows  jars  of  Dundee  marmalade, 
and  to  reflect  that  while  those  towns  have  orange  trees 
growing  in  their  streets,  and  sugar  in  abundance  in  northern 
France  and  Northern  Italy,  the  smoky  city  on  the  northern 
Firth  must  import  its  sugar,  its  oranges,  and  even,  if  from  a 
much  shorter  distance,  its  coal. 

The  causes  seem  to  fall  partly  into  human  and  partly  into 
economic  geography.  Countries  hke  Great  Britain,  especially 
in  its  northerly  parts,  which  are  poor  in  fruits  and  not  natur- 


154      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

ally  well-suited  for  bee-keeping,  are  great  consumers  of  foreign 
fruits  when  they  can  get  them,  and  also  of  sugar.  The  long 
association  of  Britain  with  the  West  Indies,  the  great  sugar- 
producing  region  of  earher  days,  not  only  gave  cheap  sugar, 
but  also  led  to  the  establishment  of  the  habit  of  using  sugar 
both  to  preserve  the  fruits  of  summer  for  winter  use,  and  to 
correct  the  acidity  of  those  of  the  home-grown  fruits  which 
had  scarcely  sun  enough  to  ripen.  In  continental  Europe, 
on  the  other  hand,  especially  towards  the  south,  fruit  was 
too  abundant  to  render  sugar  very  necessary,  and  the  fruit 
could,  owing  to  the  chmate,  be  very  readily  dried  for  winter 
use.  Further,  till  beet  sugar  was  available,  sugar  was  dear. 
Thus  jam-making,  and  the  stewing  and  preserving  of  fruit 
with  the  help  of  sugar  took  but  Uttle  hold,  and  has  never 
acquired  much.  The  curious  result  is  that  at  the  present 
day  in  the  British  Isles  enormous  amounts  of  '  canned ' 
fruits,  brought  from  far  across  the  seas,  are  consumed  yearly, 
while  in  Northern  Italy,  if  one  may  judge  from  appearances, 
huge  quantities  of,  for  example,  peaches,  are  wasted  yearly 
because  the  home  market  is  easily  satiated,  and  the  quahty 
of  the  product  is  not  sufficient  to  permit  of  the  transport 
of  the  fresh  fruit  further  afield. 

As  exceptions,  however,  to  the  above  statements  one  must 
note  the  extensive  fruit-botthng  of  the  Botzen  district,  and 
the  crystalhsed  fruits  of  the  Riviera  towns — the  latter  trade 
being  of  small  dimensions. 

Of  the  third  group  of  fruits — those  which  without  any 
particular  process  of  preparation  bear  transport  to  a  distant 
market — there  are  many  examples.  Oranges,  lemons  and 
the  citrus  fruits  generally,  pomegranates,  the  carob,  used 
chiefly  for  cattle  food,  and  a  very  important  article  of  export 
from  Cyprus,  many  kinds  of  nuts,  such  as  almond,  pistachio, 
chestnut,  etc.,  and  so  forth,  are  all  important ;  but  it  is  to 
be  remembered  that  in  regard  to  these  competition  from  other 
parts  of  the  world  with  similar  climates  is  beginning  to  be 


MULBERRY  AND  SILKWORM 


155 


severe,  for  such  fruits  can  be  easily  and  cheaply  carried  from 
the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth. 

What  other  products  can  Mediterranean  man  speciahse 
in  ?  Cotton,  sugar-cane  and  rice  are  generally  excluded  by 
reason  of  the  want  of  water  during  the  hot  season,  and  the 
difficulties  of  irrigation  on  the  large  scale.  In  the  Plain  of 
Lombardy,  however,  where  water  is  abundant  and  irrigation 
easy,  rice  is  grown  extensively  and  is  a  very  profitable  crop. 


Fio.  13. — The  Black  Mulberrj',  whose  leaves,  like  those 
of  the  White  Mulberry,  are  fed  to  silkworms  in  the 
Mediterranean  region. 

Of  more  general  importance  is  the  mulberry  for  silkworms. 
The  climate  is  in  this  case  not  quite  suitable,  for  the  want 
of  summer  rain  prevents  the  mulberry  producing  the  same 
amount  of  leaves  which  it  does  in  the  wetter  chmates  of 
China  and  Japan,  where  the  rain  comes  in  the  hot  season. 
On  the  other  hand,  silkworm  culture  can  be  well  carried  on 
in  conjunction  with  vine-growing  (note  how  often  vine  and 
mulberry  are   found   together).      The  vine  demands,   even 


156      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

in  the  Mediterranean  region,  continuous  and  laborious  care, 
and  is  grown  generally  on  small  holdings.  Silkworms  simi- 
larly are  a  small  holders'  crop,  for  at  certain  seasons  of  the 
year  they  demand  the  minute  and  laborious  care  of  trained^ 
persons,  and  this  at  a  season  when  farm  crops  also  require 
labour.  Thus  silkworm  rearing  can  rarely  be  carried  on  with 
success  by  hired  labour.  As  in  China  and  Japan,  the  work 
of  the  women  members  of  a  small  farmer's  household  is 
essential  for  success. 

Finally,  the  existence  in  the  region  of  this  tradition  of 
laborious  care  (despite  the  common  notion  that  the  people 
of  the  Mediterranean  are  all  idlers,  whose  only  object  is  to 
sit  in  the  sun  and  do  nothing),  has  led  to  the  development, 
wherever  the  conditions  permit,  of  the  cultivation  of  early 
flowers  and  vegetables  for  the  northern  market.  This  is, 
of  course,  so  far  as  flowers  go,  best  studied  on  the  Riviera, 
where  the  winter  population  of  northern  idlers  has  a  twofold 
effect.  First  of  all  it  suppUes  a  considerable  local  market, 
and  second,  it  leads  to  the  development  of  an  admirable  train 
service,  which  permits  the  local  products  to  be  carried  to 
the  north  in  the  most  rapid  and  efficient  way  possible. 

Two  regions  where  the  cultivation  of  early  vegetables  is 
carried  on  with  great  skill  are  Malta  and  Algiers.  Malta 
owes  its  pre-eminence  to  its  position  on  a  great  ocean  highway, 
which  makes  it  an  important  port  of  call,  and  thus  ensures 
easy  transport  of  its  products  to  the  dense  industrial  popula- 
tions of  the  north  and  centre  of  Europe.  Algiers  is  similarly 
connected  by  a  good  service  of  boats  with  France,  and  at 
Marseilles  can  tap  one  of  the  great  railway  arteries  of  Europe. 

Let  us  illustrate  these  general  statements  by  a  glance  at 
a  particular  area  where  old  and  new  conditions  to  some 
extent  still  co-exist.  This  is  the  old  French  province  of 
Roussillon,  that  is,  the  region  near  the  eastern  end  of  the 
Pyrenees,  which  centres  round  the  old-world  town  of  Perpignan 
and  is  fully  described  in  Dr.  Sorre's  book,  mentioned  on  p.  97. 


THE  CROPS  OF  ROUSSILLON  157 

Here  the  climate  is  dry,  and  the  lands  fall  into  two  cate- 
gories, those  which  can  be  irrigated,  and  those  where  this  is 
impossible.  The  former  have  been  greatly  extended  at  the 
expense  of  the  latter,  but  the  distinction  still  remains. 
Originally  both  kinds  of  lands  were  self-sufficing,  though 
there  has  always  been  a  marked  difference  between  the 
economic  value  of  the  two.  In  the  non-irrigated  lands  the 
three  Mediterranean  crops — the  vine,  the  oUve,  cereals — are 
possible,  and  lucerne  can  also  be  grown.  In  the  earUer  days, 
however,  the  farmer  had  much  difficulty  with  his  cereal 
crops.  Generally  wheat  and  barley  could  only  be  raised 
once  in  two  years  on  any  plot,  and  during  the  intervening 
year  the  land  was  allowed  to  He  fallow,  and  was  grazed  by 
sheep  brought  down  from  the  mountains,  whose  droppings 
enriched  the  land.  The  yield  was  always  small,  even  on  this 
wasteful  method,  and  though  the  efforts  of  the  administra- 
tion were  persistently  directed,  in  earUer  times,  to  encouraging 
the  cultivation  of  wheat  and  barley,  these  efforts  met  with 
but  Uttle  success,  and  the  acreage  of  unirrigated  land  under 
the  crops  has  steadily  decHned,  and,  in  recent  years,  with 
great  rapidity. 

The  oUve  also  does  not  flourish  well,  and  an  attempt  to 
introduce  the  mulberry  for  silkworm  culture  did  not  succeed. 
On  the  other  hand  the  vine  flourishes  admirably  on  the  dry 
slopes,  and  yields  valuable  wine.  Thus  on  the  dry  lands  the 
tendency  has  been  to  concentrate  upon  this  one  crop. 

The  irrigated  lands  are  far  more  productive,  and  at  a 
minimum  yield  two  crops  per  annum.  In  addition  to  barley 
and  wheat  other  cereals,  such  as  maize  and  millet,  can  be 
grown,  and  beans,  which  play  an  important  part  in  the 
local  diet,  are  extensively  cultivated.  Forage  crops  are 
also  grown,  and  it  has  always  been  a  custom  to  set  apart  a 
small  area  as  a  garden,  originally  to  satisfy  local  needs.  The 
vine  can  also  be  cultivated,  and  produces  very  abundantly, 
but  the  resultant  wine  is  not  of  so  high  a  quality  as  that  of  the 


158      VINEYARD,  OLIVE  GROVE,  AND  GARDEN 

dry  slopes.  After  the  phylloxera  crisis,  replanting  was  first 
carried  on  on  the  low  ground,  and  the  too  abundant  vintage 
of  rather  poor  wine  which  resulted  played  its  part  in  inducing 
the  wine  troubles  of  the  south  of  France  some  years  ago. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  watered  lands  are  admirably  suited 
for  market-gardening,  and  can  supply  to  the  Paris  market 
'  primeurs,'  especially  artichokes  and  asparagus,  which  in 
point  of  time  come  in  between  the  products  of  Algiers  and 
those  of  Brittany.  In  addition  to  the  early  crops  of  veget- 
ables the  gardens  produce  fine  fruits,  and  the  garden  land 
yields  a  constant  succession  of  crops  throughout  the  year. 
It  seems  therefore  as  if  the  most  profitable  mode  of  land 
utilisation  in  this  region  lies  in  devoting  the  unirrigated 
slopes  to  the  vine,  the  irrigated  plains  chiefly  to  the  intensive 
cultivation  of  early  vegetables  and  southern  fruits.  As  yet, 
however,  the  railway  service  is  not  sufficiently  speciahsed 
to  enable  the  gardeners  to  be  sure  of  finding  an  outlet  for 
their  crops.  But  the  region  is  a  good  example  of  one  in  the 
act  of  abandoning  a  precarious  seLf-sufl&ciency  for  crops  of 
economic  value. 

Generally  we  may  say  that  the  Western  European's  most 
effective  response  to  the  competition  of  overseas  lands  is  by 
speciahsation,  by  the  use  of  all  his  skill,  by  a  dehcate  apprecia- 
tion of  the  possibihties  of  every  natural  region. 

The  traveller  who  journeys  from  Central  Europe  into  Italy 
is  always  struck  by  the  contrast  between  the  vineyards 
north  of  the  Alps,  with  their  pruned  and  staked  vines, 
laboriously  sprayed  for  phylloxera,  separated  by  patches 
of  bare  soil  kept  hoed  and  weeded,  and  those  to  be  seen  in 
parts  of  Italy,  where  sometimes  the  great  sprays  swing  from 
one  thorn-bush  to  the  next,  across  a  field  devoted  to  another 
crop,  and  alternating  with  cHpped  mulberry  trees,  and  at 
others  the  plants  are  grown  pergola-fashion  (Plate  XVII.), 
sometimes  with  minor  crops  of  vegetables  beneath  their 
shade.    In  a  sense  the  contrast  may  be  taken  as  one  between 


I'l.A'l'K  XVII 


f 

0 

^  ^'l  •^^'S^^fe^^"  '^^ 

'SS^' 

•TC:^-  i.--   -rv: 

1 

A'iiifs  grown  ]»ergola-fashion  near  Domo  iVOssola.  Tliis 
inctliod  is  characteristically  Italian,  as  contrasted  with  that 
ailojited  in  France  and  Germany. 


THE  OLD  WORLD  AND  THE  NEW  159 

the  old  and  the  new,  the  easy  and  the  difficult.  The  laborious 
method  is  the  reply  of  the  old  world  to  the  spendthrift  new. 
The  farmer  of  the  golden  west  squanders  recklessly  the  stored 
treasures  of  his  fertile  lands,  with  no  thought  of  the  to- 
morrow ;  he  of  Europe  responds  ofttimes  by  bending  yet 
deeper  over  his  cherished  plot,  which  has  fed  his  fathers 
through  long  ages,  and  has  been  transmitted  by  them  to  their 
sons  enriched  and  not  impoverished.  It  is  to  him,  in  the 
long  run,  we  cannot  doubt,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  new 
lands  must  come  to  learn  how  to  make  good  the  errors  of 
their  tempestuous  youth. 

Referen'ces.  Tlie  books  named  at  the  end  of  Chap.  viii.  mostly 
deal  with  the  subject  of  this  chapter  also.  Brunhes'  La  Geographic 
Humaine  discusses  several  aspects  of  the  general  subject,  and  Prothero's 
English  Farming,  Past  and  Present,  should  be  read  to  appreciate  the 
transition  between  primitive  farming  in  England  and  the  present 
specialised  t3^e. 


PART   II 

SPECIAL:    SOME   TYPICAL  REGIONS 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WHERE   SHALL   WE   GO  ? 

'  Whither  shall  I  turn, 
By  ro«.d  or  pathway,  or  through  trackless  field, 
Up  hill  or  down,  or  shall  some  floating  thing 
Upon  the  river  point  me  out  my  course  ?  ' 

Readers  of  Little  Dorrit  will  remember  how  ]\Irs.  General 
countered  the  elegant  Miss  Fanny's  objection  to  the  *  incon- 
veniences '  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard,  by  saying  : — '  But,  like 
other  inconvenient  places,  it  must  be  seen.  As  a  place  much 
spoken  of,  it  is  necessary  to  see  it.'  To  which  Miss  Fanny 
returned  that  she  had  not  the  least  objection  to  seeing  it. 
Now  for  persons  of  this  type,  the  question  of  what  places  it 
is  most  interesting  to  visit  does  not  arise.  The  problem  is 
settled  for  them  by  outside  influences,  and  they  will  probably 
rejoice  that  as  Switzerland  is  now  excluded  from  the  hst  of 
the  superior  person,  who  must  replace  it  by  the  Rockies  or 
the  New  Zealand  Alps,  the  hardships  to  which  the  elder 
Miss  Dorrit  objected  need  no  longer  be  faced.  For  others, 
and  especially  for  those  who  have  a  superabundance  neither 
of  money  nor  of  leisure,  the  question  is  important. 

As  factors  in  the  decision  in  any  particular  case  we  have 
of  course  always  to  recognise  the  season  of  the  year,  the  time 
available,  the  character  and  training  of  the  individual  and  so 
forth — all  points  which  each  must  consider  for  himself. 
But  it  seems  worth  while,  before  considering,  in  a  httle  detail, 
a  few  of  the  more  commonly  visited  parts  of  Western  Europe, 
to  suggest  a  broad  general  classification  of  the  regions  within 
easy  reach,  and  to  give  some  notes  on  the  conditions  to  be 


164  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

expected  in  each,  in  order  to  help  the  inexperienced  to  make 
a  judicious  choice. 

Perhaps  the  first  point  to  reahse  is  that  the  character  of 
a  region,  from,  as  we  may  say,  the  standpoint  of  human 
geography,  depends  upon  the  persons  who  usually  visit  it. 
Is  this  a  hard  saying  ?  The  point  at  least  is  simple  enough. 
The  tourist,  by  definition,  stands  apart  from  the  social — in 
the  broad  sense — Hfe  of  the  places  he  visits,  for  when  he 
becomes  a  part  of  the  community  there,  he  ceases  to  be  a 
tourist.  Thus,  in  the  general  case,  he  is  introduced  into  an 
artificial  community  provided  for  his  benefit.  It  would  be 
an  exaggeration  to  say  that  many  travellers  visit  Italy 
without  ever  spealdng  to  an  Italian,  but  we  must  still  re- 
member that  they  are  far  more  Hkely  to  hold  conversations 
with  persons  whose  presence  in  any  particular  locahty  is 
due  to  the  tourist  traffic,  than  with  truly  native  inhabitants 
of  the  region.  If  this  be  true,  then  it  follows  that  the  tourist's 
community  in  any  region  will  reflect  the  character  and 
nationahty  of  the  majority  of  its  tourists.  Further,  generally 
speaking,  the  wealthier  the  tourist  the  broader  will  be  the 
barrier  between  him  and  the  true  life  of  the  neighbourhood. 
Some  prince,  of  more  than  common  thoughtfulness,  is  credited 
with  the  lament  that  he  could  never  see  the  towns  of  his  native 
land  as  they  really  were,  but  only  bedizened  with  bunting 
and  bedecked  with  flags  in  his  honour.  To  some  extent  all 
tourists  suffer  in  the  same  way,  but  the  poor  man  has  at 
least  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  for  him  the  bunting 
is  less  in  evidence  than  for  the  others. 

We  have  to  remember  also  that  on  the  whole  the  standard 
of  comfort — or,  if  you  will,  the  mean  income — is  higher  among 
Enghsh-speaking  people  than  it  is  among  others,  so  that 
when  many  English-speaking  people  visit  a  locality  it  tends 
to  be  dearer  and  more  '  spoilt '  than  regions  less  favoured. 
The  invaluable  Baedeker  rarely  fails,  when  occasion  ofiers, 
to  insert  the  useful  note  '  Enghsh  Church  Service  during  the 


THE  SWISS  ALPS  165 

season  '  under  the  head  of  general  information.  One  good 
general  classification  of  hohday  resorts  on  the  continent  is 
based  on  the  presence  or  absence  of  this  note  in  the  guide- 
book. The  chaplain  may  be  harmless  enough,  but  when 
one  adds  his  wife  and  daughters,  the  faithful  devotees  and 
the  atmosphere  which  accompanies  the  EngUshman's  rehgion, 
the  result  is  somewhat  trying  ;  a  Catholic's  God  has  at  least 
the  advantage  that  he  can  be  worshipped  in  common  by  the 
speakers  of  any  tongue.  The  CathoUc  rehgion  has  the 
further  advantage  that  no  particular  form  of  dress  is  imposed 
upon  the  worshippers,  whereas  attendance  at  the  English 
service  even  in  an  Alpine  inn  is  impossible,  for  one  sex  at  any 
rate,  without  the  possession  of  kid  gloves  and  a  fashionable 
hat. 

Where,  then,  there  is  an  English  Church  service,  there 
many  EngUsh  are  to  be  expected  ;  prices,  in  the  words  of 
Baedeker,  will  have  an  upward  tendency ;  the  Enghsh 
language  will  be  extensively  used  by  the  staff  of  the  hotels, 
afternoon  tea  will  probably  be  obtainable,  and  the  food  will 
approximate  towards  that  to  be  obtained  in  Enghsh  hotels, 
local  dishes  being  scarcely  represented. 

All  regions  greatly  frequented  by  the  EngUsh  tend  to 
approach  this  condition,  and  one  factor  in  the  success  with 
which  the  Swiss  prosecute  the  tourist  industry  is  their  skill 
in  eliminating  from  the  environment  of  the  tourist  everything 
hkely  to  strike  him  as  strange  or  '  unEnghsh.'  The  writer 
once  heard  a  young  Enghsh  journahst,  a  man  of  much  educa- 
tion and  not  without  humour,  express  in  the  clearest  and  most 
concise  manner  his  views  on  the  subject  of  the  Swiss.  He 
came  to  Switzerland,  he  said,  to  see  the  mountains,  not  the 
Swiss,  and  he  objected  strongly  to  the  presence  of  the  latter 
in  his  vicinity.  Some  Swiss,  he  admitted,  were  necessary ; 
one  must  have  railway  officials  and  porters,  also  hotel  servants, 
guides,  cobblers  and  the  hke ;  the  existence  of  any  other 
kind,  he  said,  seemed  to  him  an  impertinence. 


166  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

This  feeling,  rarely  put  so  clearly,  has  made  the  Switzer- 
land of  the  tourist  what  it  is.  Not  that  the  Swiss  have 
ehminated  themselves  ;  far  from  it.  You  may  find  them 
in  Zurich,  if  not  in  Lucerne  ;  in  Geneva  if  not  in  Montreux  ; 
in  the  huts  if  not  in  the  '  first-class  hotels.'  But  broadly 
speaking  Switzerland  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  Switzer- 
land of  the  Swiss  and  the  Switzerland  of  the  Enghsh,  and 
one  may  go  for  twenty  years  in  succession  to  Grindelwald — 
as  some  people  do — and  never  be  aware  of  the  existence  of 
the  former. 

But  if  the  Enghshman  and  his  wife  do  not  show  to  the 
best  advantage  abroad,  this  effect  of  tourist  on  surroundings 
is  far  from  hmited  to  them.  All  types  of  tourist  act  in  a 
similar  fashion,  though  the  efiect  in  every  case  is  diverse. 

Thus  places  chiefly  frequented  by  French  tourists  have 
very  well-marked  characters.  The  French  are  strongly  social, 
and  not  as  a  rule  given  to  very  active  exercise,  this  being 
especially  true  of  the  women.  Thus  in  the  Pyrenees,  in  the 
Dauphiny,  in  those  parts  of  Savoy  which  are  not  in  efiect 
Swiss,  one  finds  quite  similar  conditions,  which,  as  a  rule, 
render  the  locaHties  unsuitable  for  active  Enghsh  people. 
Thus  scattered  hotels  are  somewhat  infrequent,  the  tendency 
being  to  have  well-peopled  health  resorts,  with  band,  casino, 
and  promenade,  separated  from  each  other  by  unpeopled 
parts  of  the  country.  Paths  are  not  generally  numerous, 
but  on  the  other  hand,  especially  in  the  Pyrenees,  there  are 
often  excellent  carriage  roads. 

Again,  and  the  statement  is  true  of  France  generally,  the 
cooking  is  usually  better  than  the  accommodation,  and  yet, 
when  prices  rise  with  the  infiux  of  Enghsh  visitors,  it  is  the 
rooms  rather  than  the  meals  which  are  put  up.  The  reason 
is  rather  curious.  In  France  generally  the  local  population 
frequently  dines  at  the  inn ;  thus  if  the  innkeeper  raises  the 
prices  of  meals  to  pay  for  the  extra  trouble  and  expense 
which  result  from  Enghsh  ideas  of  comfort,  he  risks  the  loss 


THE  EASTERN  ALPS  167 

of  local  custom.  To  make  the  foreigner  pay  extra  for  his 
room  is  an  obvious  way  out  of  the  difficulty  ;  another  is  to 
bring  the  wine  card  to  foreigners,  while  for  natives  the  local 
wine  is  '  compris.' 

Before  the  war,  English-speaking  tourists  with  no  super- 
fluity of  wealth  and  a  love  of  chmbing  and  walking  found  the 
Austrian  Alps  cheaper  and  more  suited  to  their  tastes  than 
either  the  French  or  the  Swiss,  for  the  love  of  mountain 
excursions  is  widespread  among  Germans  and  Austrians  of 
moderate  means,  and  partly  by  organising  themselves  as 
the  German  -  Austrian  Alpine  Club,  with  a  membership 
which  approached  one  hundred  thousand,  partly  by  sheer 
weight  of  numbers,  they  contrived  to  keep  their  glorious 
mountains  as  a  heritage  for  the  moderately  well-off,  and  by 
hut-building  and  path-making  have  made  them  accessible 
to  the  ordinary  good  walker,  who  comes  in  his  thousands. 
Thus  those  to  whom  economy  is  a  consideration  will  find 
that  it  is  an  advantage  to  pay  the  heavier  railway  fare  for 
the  journey  further  east,  in  order  to  profit  by  the  cheaper 
Uving  there.  But  the  EngUsh  Church  Service  and  all  that 
it  signifies  is  not  always  obtainable  ! 

The  subject  of  the  connection  between  the  characters 
of  a  locahty  and  the  customers  for  which  it  caters  chiefly 
might  be  further  elaborated,  but  what  has  been  said  is  sufficient 
to  indicate  that  the  point  should  always  be  kept  in  view  when 
a  free  choice  of  a  hohday  ground  can  be  made. 

As  this  chapter  is  especially  intended  for  the  inexperienced, 
one  other  general  caution  may  be  added — beware  of  '  local 
colour '  in  a  frequented  tourist  region  of  any  kind  !  When 
it  takes  the  form  of  goods,  the  probabihties  are  that  these 
have  been  '  made  in  Germany,'  or  in  Birmingham,  accord- 
ing to  circumstances  ;  when  they  occur  as  local  pecuUarities 
of  dress,  of  custom,  and  so  forth,  it  is  well  to  recollect  that 
such  things,  hke  dweUing-houses,  generally  become  picture- 
esque  when  they  have  ceased  to  be  fully  functional,  not 


168  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

before.  So  long  as  a  custom,  a  tradition,  a  habit  is  really 
significant  in  the  hfe  of  a  people,  it  tends  to  lie  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  casual  tourist ;  not  until  they  are  dead  can 
such  things  be  made  a  show  of.  Western  Europe  as  a  whole 
is  highly  conventionaUsed  and  '  quaintness  '  should  always 
give  rise  to  suspicion. 

One  may  add  a  further  warning  of  which  we  all  stand  in 
need.  Beware  of  making  broad  deductions  on  the  basis  of 
the  casual  observations  of  the  traveller ;  strive  always  to 
remember  that  you  are  seeing  through  a  glass  darkly.  The 
writer  remembers  Ustening,  through  an  interminable  meal 
in  an  Itahan  pension,  to  a  lady  from  Boston,  who  was 
explaining  that  there  is  no  home  life  in  '  Yurope.'  She 
had  spent  ten  days  in  London  and  a  week  in  Paris,  and 
knew  that  neither  in  England  nor  in  France  did  the  home 
exist ;  people  spent  all  their  Hves  in  hotels  and  cafes. 
Before  the  first  feeUng  of  contempt  died  down  to  unutter- 
able boredom  (for  the  thesis  was  very  fully  elaborated),  one 
had  time  to  remember  that  though  it  seems  at  first  sight 
impossible  that  the  tyranny  exercised  by  the  British  family 
could  escape  the  most  casual  observer,  yet  the  statement 
in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  the  French  family  would  still  be 
accepted  by  quite  a  number  of  '  travelled '  English  people. 
Nevertheless  the  position  has  been  maintained,  with  some 
show  of  logic,  that  the  bonds  against  which  the  EngHsh 
youth  and  maiden  rebel  so  fiercely  are  silken  threads  com- 
pared with  those  which  the  son  and  daughter  of  the  French 
household  must  wear,  till  circumstances  enable  them  in  their 
turn  to  bind  the  activities  of  a  new  generation.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  the  obvious  reply  to  the  Boston  lady  is  that  she  did 
not  see  the  home  either  in  Paris  or  in  London  because  its 
doors  were  closed  to  her.  Not  many  of  us,  be  it  remembered, 
can  see  through  a  stone  wall. 

At  the  same  time  we  have  to  admit  that  it  is  human  nature 
to  attempt  to  do  it,  and  the  writer  cannot  hope  that  the 


THE  CHOICE  169 

following  pages  are  devoid  of  too  hasty  deductions  of  this 
kind.  Few  of  us  can  see  all  there  is  to  be  seen,  and  see  it 
without  prejudice  and  without  illusion.  But  at  least  one 
general  conclusion  seems  justifiable.  If  you  insist  every- 
where upon  '  comfort,'  you  will  necessarily  carry  your  native 
atmosphere  with  you  wherever  you  go,  and  it  will  prove  but 
a  distorting  medium  through  which  to  see  your  new  sur- 
roundings. Without  accepting  in  its  entirety  the  Calvinistic 
position  that  discomfort  is  good  for  the  soul,  there  seems 
reason  to  believe  that  the  power  of  enduring  it  philosophically 
is  part  of  the  equipment  of  the  serious  traveller. 

If  we  suppose  that  this  tincture  of  philosophy  is  present 
so  that  a  free  choice  of  holiday  resorts  is  possible,  what 
points  have  next  to  be  considered  ?  One  would  naturally 
wish,  other  things  being  equal,  to  obtain  in  the  course  of 
successive  hohdays  a  firsthand  knowledge  of  the  different 
natural  regions  of  Europe  whose  peculiarities  we  have  dis- 
cussed in  the  first  part  of  this  book.  What  does  this  involve  ? 
At  a  minimum  it  means  visits  to  mountains  and  uplands,  to 
the  plains  with  their  teeming  hfe,  to  that  South  which  is  in 
so  many  ways  apart  from  the  rest  of  Europe.  Let  us  elabo- 
rate each  point  a  httle. 

To  see,  in  the  Europe  of  our  sense,  true  mountains  and  the 
associated  phenomena,  we  must  almost  necessarily  visit  the 
Alps.  The  Caucasus  are  beyond  our  scope,  and  while 
certain  mountain  phenomena  can  be  observed  in  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  Atlas,  yet,  for  a  variety  of  reasons, 
the  early  visits  at  least  must  be  made  to  the  Alps.  Such 
visits  should  include  not  only  the  central  chain  with  its 
high  peaks,  glaciers  and  eternal  snows,  but  also  the  character- 
istic marginal  lakes,  preferably  those  both  on  the  north  and 
south  sides  of  the  chain. 

What  one  would  hope  primarily  to  gain  from  these  moun- 
tain visits  would  be  an  increased  knowledge  of  physical 
geography,  of  the  agents  which  are  continually  moulding  the 


170  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

surface  of  the  earth.  In  the  Western  Alps,  as  akeady  sug- 
gested, the  hfe  of  the  people,  save  in  its  broadest  outUne,  is 
Hkely  to  elude  the  visitor's  grasp.  Only  if  he  or  she  is  very 
well  prepared  beforehand,  and  thus  able  to  disregard  the 
irrelevant  and  unreal,  to  pick  out  the  significant,  is  it  possible 
in  the  course  of  a  short  summer  hohday  to  appreciate  the 
effects  of  mountain  life  on  the  inhabitants.  In  the  Eastern 
Alps  matters  are  a  little  better,  for  the  people,  often  very 
isolated  in  their  longitudinal  valleys,  are  strongly  individual- 
ised, have,  on  the  whole,  kept  their  ancient  customs  more 
jealously  than  the  Swiss,  and,  except  on  the  main  tourist 
routes,  are  still  more  or  less  a  people  apart. 

The  best  preparation  for  mountain  hoUdays  is,  according 
to  the  taste  of  the  visitor,  to  read  the  copious  EngUsh  climb- 
ing '  hterature,'  beginning  with  Leshe  Stephen's  Playground 
of  Europe  ;  or  to  attempt  to  master  some  part  of  the  enor- 
mous recent  output  of  books  on  the  origin  and  structure  of 
the  Alps,  which  is  largely  though  not  exclusively  in  German  ; 
or  to  devote  attention  to  the  still  somewhat  scattered  studies 
which  have  been  made  upon  the  human  geography  of  the 
region,  which  is  specially  interesting  because  the  '  backward' 
mountain  peoples  have  still  roots  in  Mother  Earth  in  the 
sense  which  we  have  given  to  this  phrase  in  Chapter  xi. 

From  the  standpoint  of  human  geography  the  uplands 
show,  generally  in  less  marked  form,  somewhat  similar 
features  to  mountain  regions.  That  is,  there  tends  to  be 
a  closer  connection  between  modes  of  life  and  the  natural 
surroundings  than  in  the  case  of  the  plains.  Historically, 
however,  upland  regions  are  often  more  interesting  than  the 
mountains,  on  account  of  their  closer  connection  with  the 
plains.  Certain  aspects  of  physical  geography  also  can  be 
as  well  studied  here  as  in  the  mountains.  In  most  cases 
upland  regions  are  most  conveniently  studied  in  connection 
with  the  plain  tracts  with  which  they  are  pohtically  connected. 
Those  which  are  most  hkely  to  be  visited  by  the  tourist  are 


THE  CHARMS  OF  FRANCE  171 

the  Highlands  of  Scotland  and  the  high  ground  on  the  west 
of  Great  Britain  generally ;  Norway,  which  despite  its 
glaciers  and  snowfields  is  an  upland  and  not  a  mountain 
region  ;  the  middle  Rhine,  the  Ardennes,  Brittany  and  so 
forth.  Of  these  the  Scottish  Highlands  and  the  middle 
Rhine  are  perhaps  the  most  important. 

To  the  student  of  human  geography  the  plains  of  Central 
Europe  are  of  course  supremely  important,  and  as  some  one  or 
other  of  them  must  be  crossed  to  reach  the  Alps  or  the  south 
they  are  of  easy  access.  What  is  here  the  minimum  for  the 
systematic  traveller  ?  One  must  certainly,  first  of  all,  see 
Paris  and  some  of  the  French  cathedral  towns  of  the  north 
and  north-west.  One  should  also  make  a  flying  visit  to 
Belgium  and  Holland,  and  a  German  town  or  two  may  be 
sandwiched  in  on  the  way  to  and  from  the  Alps  by  those  who 
do  not  wish  to  make  a  special  tour  in  Germany. 

This  brief  list  brings  out  one  point  at  least  about  the 
plains — that  as  compared  aUke  with  mountain  and  upland 
their  chief  interest  is  in  the  works  of  man.  We  are  specially 
fortunate  also  in  that  the  part  of  the  Mid-European  plain 
which  is  separated  from  us  by  the  narrowest  stretch  of  water 
is  that  from  whose  people  we  have  most  to  learn.  One  may 
lay  it  down  as  an  axiom  that  no  able-bodied  person  who 
can  collect  together  the  fare  from  England  to  France  should 
neglect  to  visit  Paris,  and  the  further  north  in  Great  Britain 
the  individual  was  born,  the  greater  is  the  need  for  his  making 
the  journey.  To  attempt  to  point  out  the  contrasts  between 
English  and  French  at  this  time  of  day,  or  to  balance  the 
virtues  of  the  one  race  against  those  of  the  other,  would  be 
fooUsh  and  futile,  but  that  a  real  contrast  exists  no  one  can 
deny.  Perhaps,  however,  in  view  of  widespread  prejudices, 
it  may  be  well  to  state  that  one  contrast,  which  the  candid 
cannot  fail  to  observe,  is  French  seriousness  as  compared 
with  our  frivoUty.  For  this  reason  the  first  visit  to  France 
should  if  possible  be  made  in  youth,  when  even  the  Briton 


172  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

has  some  inkling  that  art  and  hterature  and  life  have  their 
serious  side.  Candid  youth  may  hope  to  learn  also  that 
when  this  deep-seated  seriousness  is  present  it  is  possible 
to  be  gay  on  the  surface ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  solemnity 
of  demeanour,  so  common  on  our  side  of  the  channel,  may 
be  an  indispensable  cloak  if  there  is  only  emptiness  within. 

If  the  scandahsed  tourist  reply  that  the  seriousness  of 
the  shops  in  the  rue  de  RivoH  is  not  what  strikes  the  Puritan 
most,  the  answer  has  been  already  given  in  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter.  The  Parisian  knows  well  that  the  average 
tourist  comes  to  Paris  hoping  to  be  shocked,  and  he  suppUes 
the  improprieties  required  in  abundance.  If  the  tourist 
thinks  this  is  the  whole  of  Paris  so  much  the  worse  for  him. 
But  let  him  strive  to  remember  that  this  is  the  capital  and 
the  real  centre  of  life  of  a  people  with  a  hving  literature,  a 
hving  art ;  a  people  to  whom  the  world  owes  all  recent  great 
advances  in  modes  of  locomotion,  and  the  yet  greater  achieve- 
ment of  being  able  to  look  unafraid  upon  things  as  they  are. 

Since  the  French  are  first  and  fundamentally  a  Uterary 
people,  the  best  preparation  for  a  visit  to  their  country  is  to 
acquire  some  knowledge  of  their  literature.  The  country 
has  natural  beauties  no  doubt,  it  has  many  historic  monu- 
ments of  great  interest,  but  the  primary  importance  of  the 
land  must  always  be  that  it  has  moulded  the  people  into 
what  they  are.  One  wants,  therefore,  so  far  as  possible  to 
look  at  the  land  through  the  eyes  of  its  inhabitants.  Geo- 
graphy, especially  human  geography,  has  in  France  a  great 
number  of  adherents,  many  of  whom  are  men  with  much 
power  of  hterary  expression,  but  apart  altogether  from  the 
works  of  these  it  is  needful  to  be  steeped  in  the  literature 
of  the  country.  One  should  not  visit  Provence  without 
having  read  and  re-read  Daudet ;  Lorraine  should  have  been 
seen  through  the  eyes  of  Colette  Baudoche  and  her  lover 
before  the  eyes  of  the  flesh  rest  upon  it ;  the  quais  of  Paris 
lose  half  their  significance  if  one  does  not  know  how  Monsieur 


PREPARATION  FOR  TRAVEL  173 

Bergeret  and  the  Abbe  Coignard  loved  them  and  walked  upon 
them  ;  docs  not  the  very  essence  of  provincial  France  distil 
from  some  of  the  pages  of  Maupassant  ?  Perhaps  also  one 
should  not  dare  to  visit  Chartres  without  having  seen  it  first 
through  the  eyes  of  the  hero  of  La  Cathedrale,  even  though 
that  gentleman's  concern  for  the  salvation  of  a  singularly 
worthless  soul  may  seem  excessive — but  then  the  author 
of  his  being  was  not  French  by  birth  ! 

In  short,  to  visit  France  with  profit  one  must  keep  in  mind 
constantly  that  its  primary  interest  Ues  in  the  fact  that  it  is 
peopled  by  Frenchmen  and  Frenchwomen,  and  strive  to  lose 
no  possible  opportunity  of  learning  something  about  them. 
A  point  of  some  interest,  it  may  be  noted  in  passing,  is  that 
while  the  women  are  certainly  as  highly  individuaUsed  as 
Englishwomen,  even  since  the  days  of  the  latter 's  awakening, 
yet  the  course  of  social  evolution  here  has  been  quite  difl'erent 
— a  fact  which  may  be  studied  alike  in  the  literature  and  on 
the  spot. 

The  plains  further  to  the  north  have  other  tales  to  tell. 
In  the  Low  Countries  one  may  see  something  of  what  pros- 
perity meant  to  the  burghers  of  an  earlier  day,  whose  wealth 
depended  upon  a  monopoly  of  a  valuable  overseas  trade  ; 
something  also  may  be  seen  of  the  effect  of  agelong  human 
conflict  with  the  forces  of  nature,  and  its  results  ahke  upon 
man  and  the  surface.  Finally,  the  contrast  between  Dutch 
art  and  the  earlier  ItaUan  art  of  the  Renaissance  is  so  strikins 
that  it  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  noticed,  even  by  the  most 
inexperienced  person,  if  he  has  seen  both. 

As  to  the  last  heading  in  our  outhne  classification,  the  South, 
we  have  already  emphasised  the  marked  contrasts  which  it 
offers  to  the  north  and  centre  in  chmate,  in  natural  vegetation. 
in  cultivated  crops.  It  only  remains  to  be  added  that  it 
has  produced,  especially  at  certain  periods  and  at  various 
places,  fine  flowers  of  human  skill  and  inspiration  which  it 
were  to  miss  half  the  joy  of  Ufe  not  to  see,  should  opportunity 


174  WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  ? 

ofier.  The  minimum  perhaps  here  is  Florence  as  a  means 
of  studying  the  Renaissance,  and  Provence  for  its  Roman 
remains,  the  latter  if  Rome  be  not  possible.  Indeed,  in  any 
case,  the  old-world  cities  of  Provence  afford  probably  the  best 
introduction  to  the  great  empire  with  its  mixture  of  savagery 
and  splendour,  for  the  ruins  rise  from  the  midst  of  the  somno- 
lent towns  near  the  Rhone  with  an  impressiveness  which  one 
perhaps  loses  in  the  busy  modern  city  of  Rome,  with  its 
jumble  of  periods  and  ideals.  One  finds,  it  may  be  added, 
also  in  the  towns  of  Provence  the  dust,  the  dirt,  the  disregard 
of  elementary  sanitary  precautions,  which  seem  to  the 
northerner  who  has  not  seen  the  pit  villages  of  his  own  island 
so  eminently  southern. 

In  the  chapters  which  follow  we  shall  consider  successively 
the  Alps  in  their  various  aspects  and  regions  ;  volcanic 
phenomena  as  illustrated  in  the  district  round  Naples  ;  that 
anomalous  region  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea  which 
we  call  the  coast  far  excellence — the  Riviera  ;  the  Scottish 
Highlands  as  a  type  of  Uplands  ;  and,  finally,  some  plain 
regions  with  their  towns.  In  all  cases  the  treatment  is  meant 
to  be  suggestive  only,  and  has  no  claim  to  be  regarded  as 
comprehensive — the  object  is  to  open  vistas  rather  than  to 
describe  scenery. 


I 


CHAPTEE  XIV 

THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE  I    ESSENTIAL  FEATURES 
OF  THE   ALPS 

*  Ehre  sei  Gott  in  der  Hohe  ! 
Er  hat  die  Berge  so  hoch  gestellt.' 

The  Alps  proper  extend  in  an  irregular  curve  from  the  Col 
d'Altare  on  the  Gulf  of  Genoa  to  Vienna,  a  distance  of  some 
750  miles.  They  fall  naturally  into  a  western  and  an  eastern 
section,  which  are  more  or  less  markedly  contrasted  with 
each  other.  The  Western  Alps  form  a  great  arc  of  a  circle, 
rising  steeply  from  the  plain  of  Piedmont  and  curving  round 
till  they  acquire  a  north-easterly  direction,  to  end  approxi- 
mately along  a  hne  extending  from  Lake  Constance  to  Lake 
Como.  Beyond  this  Hne  the  chain  is  continued  in  a  wider 
but  lower  segment,  with  a  general  north-eastern  direction, 
which  dies  away  close  to  the  Danube  in  the  vicinity  of  Vienna. 
We  shall  call  this  part  the  Eastern  Alps,  as  contrasted  with 
the  Western  section,  but  it  should  be  noted  that  it  does  not 
wholly  correspond  with  the  Eastern  Alps  of  popular  speech. 
The  line  we  have  drawn,  as  the  map  shows,  throws  the  Alps 
of  the  Bernina  group,  that  is  the  mountains  of  the  Engadine, 
into  the  Eastern  Alps.  Now  the  Engadine  belongs  poUti- 
cally  to  Switzerland,  while  the  rest  of  the  Eastern  Alps  are, 
broadly  speaking,  divided  between  the  powers  of  Austria, 
Italy,  and  Germany  (a  small  part).  In  current  speech 
therefore  it  is  usual  to  regard  the  hne  between  Western  and 
Eastern  Alps  as  coinciding  with  the  Swiss  frontier,  so  that 
the  Engadine  mountains  become  a  part  of  the  former.     This 

17& 


176  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

is  the  classification  which  Baedeker  adopts,  the  Engadine 
being  included  in  the  volume  on  Switzerland  and  not  in  that 
on  the  Eastern  Alps.  This,  it  should  be  reaUsed,  is  purely 
a  matter  of  practical  convenience,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  structure  of  the  mountains.  Between  the  Eastern  and 
Western  Alps  as  defined  above,  there  is,  on  the  other  hand, 
a  real  structural  distinction  which  it  seems  worth  while  to 
consider  in  a  httle  detail. 

Through  the  Alps  generally  there  runs  a  band  of  crystalHne 
rocks,  such  as  granite,  gneiss,  schists,  etc.,  a  band  which  corre- 
sponds generally  to  the  greatest  heights,  and  may  be  regarded 
as  the  apex  of  that  great  earth  crumple  which  forms  the  moun- 
tains. In  the  Western  Alps  this  central  axis  is,  as  it  were, 
exposed  on  its  southern  side ;  that  is,  it  arises  directly,  like 
a  mighty  wall,  from  the  plain  of  Piedmont.  In  the  Eastern 
Alps,  on  the  other  hand,  there  intervenes  between  the  central 
crystalHne  axis  and  the  plains  of  Italy  a  broad  belt  of  moun- 
tains and  hills,  built  up  of  rocks  laid  down  in  water,  especially 
hmestones.  Such  limestones,  for  example,  form  the  beautiful 
Dolomite  mountains  of  Tyrol. 

Turn  now  to  the  northern  margin  of  the  Alps.  In 
Chapter  iv.  we  discussed  the  Subalpine  and  Prealpine  cal- 
careous chains  which  fringe  the  outer  border  of  the  High 
Alps,  but,  in  addition  to  these,  clothing,  as  it  were,  the  central 
crystalline  chain,  there  is  a  belt  of  calcareous  rocks,  widest 
to  the  east,  where  it  forms  important  chains  of  calcareous 
Alps,  but  present  also  in  the  western  segment.  Thus  we 
have  to  think  of  the  long  curving  chain  of  the  Alps  as  having 
its  lofty  central  area,  which  is  built  up  of  crystalHne  rocks, 
clothed  throughout  on  its  northern  margin  by  a  belt  of  often 
high  Calcareous  Alps,  v/hile  the  inner  or  southern  margin 
has  a  broad  investment  of  similar  character  to  the  east,  but 
towards  the  west  has  the  central  axis  exposed  owing  to  the 
absence  of  marginal  Hmestone  chains.  The  reason  for  the 
distinction  we  need  not  consider  in  detail,  but,  in  broad 


THE  CALCAREOUS  ALPS  177 

outline,  it  is  believed  to  be  somewhat  as  follows.  The 
mountain-building  forces,  which  acted  from  the  south  towards 
the  north,  were  more  powerful  in  the  region  of  the  present 
plain  of  Piedmont  than  elsewhere.  Here  therefore  the 
earth  crumple  rose  to  its  highest  point,  and  here,  as  suggested 
on  p  20,  great  shces  of  rock  were  shoved  over  the  top  of  one 
another  so  that  rock  masses  which  lay  originally  south  of 
the  rising  Alps  came  to  lie  north  of  them,  and  some  of  the 
mountains  along  the  northern  margin  of  the  Swiss  Alps, 
which  are  built  up  of  rocks  of  distinctly  southern  character, 
represent,  as  it  were,  the  beds  which  are  missing  to  the  south. 
In  the  Eastern  Alps  the  crumphng  was  less  intense,  the 
mountains  are  not  so  high,  and  rock  displacement  has  not 
taken  place  on  the  same  scale. 

Calcareous  rocks  begin  to  appear  in  the  south  between 
Lakes  Maggiore  and  Como,  but  the  most  satisfactory  hne  of 
demarcation  between  Western  and  Eastern  Alps  is  that 
which  runs  from  Lake  Constance  up  the  valley  of  the  Rhine 
to  Chur,  and  then  via  the  Spliigen  pass  to  Lake  Como. 

In  the  Western  Alps,  as  thus  defined,  it  will  be  noticed  that 
the  mountain  chain,  though  lofty  and  much  glaciated,  is 
relatively  narrow.  The  mountains  are  precipitous  aUke  as 
viewed  from  the  Plain  of  Piedmont  and  from  the  vicinity 
of  the  seacoast  in  the  Maritime  Alps  ;  only  towards  the  north- 
west do  they  slope  more  gently  to  the  Swiss  plateau.  The 
Eastern  Alps  are  throughout  wider  and  lower.  They  reach 
their  maximum  width  (about  160  miles)  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Brenner  pass  and  Lake  Garda,  and  there  advance  upon 
the  low  ground  so  as  to  divide  partially  the  Venetian  plain 
from  that  of  Lombardy.  From  the  plain,  however,  they 
rise  much  less  steeply  than  their  western  continuation,  and 
in  the  extreme  east,  instead  of  ending  abruptly,  as  do  the 
Western  Alps,  they  slope  gently  towards  the  plain  of 
Hungary,  from  which  plain  their  interior  can  be  reached 
with  relative  ease,  owing  to  the  long  river  valleys  which  lead 

M 


178  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

from  the  heart  of  the  mountains  to  the  plain.  Northwards 
also  the  Eastern  Alps  slope  gradually  to  the  plains  of  Swabia 
and  Bavaria. 

In  addition  to  their  structural  differences,  their  greater 
mean  height,  their  greater  absolute  height  and  their  more 
severe  glaciation,  the  Western  Alps  differ  from  the  Eastern, 
generally  speaking,  in  the  nature  of  their  valleys.  With  an 
exception  to  be  noted  directly,  the  majority  of  the  large 
valleys  in  the  Western  Alps  are  transverse  to  the  main  trend 
of  the  chain,  that  is  the  streams  have  a  '  natural '  direction, 
for  they  run  from  the  crests  of  the  mountains  down  the  slope 
of  the  ground  towards  the  surrounding  plains.  On  the 
other  hand,  in  the  Eastern  Alps  there  are  a  great  number 
of  large  valleys  which,  for  a  part  of  their  course,  follow 
approximately  the  trend  of  the  chain,  i.e.  are  longitudinal 
instead  of  transverse  to  it.  As  examples  we  may  note 
the  Inn  from  Landeck  to  the  vicinity  of  Kufstein,  the 
Upper  Salzach,  a  part  of  the  Enns  valley,  the  Drave 
valley,  the  Mur  valley,  the  ValtelHna  (Adda  valley),  the 
Vintschgau  above  Meran,  and  so  on.  Such  longitudinal 
valleys  tend  to  be  more  or  less  isolated,  and  their  pre- 
dominance in  the  Eastern  Alps  is  one  of  the  reasons  why 
the  people  there  have  on  the  whole  retained  more  of  the 
characteristics  of  an  earlier  period  than  those  of  the  Western 
Alps.  In  Switzerland  the  multitude  of  transverse  valleys 
gives  relative  ease  of  access  ;  movement  can  take  place  from 
mountain  to  plain  or  from  plain  to  mountain  with  changing 
conditions,  social  and  economic.  We  are  apt  to  think  of 
the  Swiss  as  a  typical  mountain  folk,  but  in  point  of  fact 
they  are  largely  a  manufacturing  and  engineering  nation. 
The  peoples  further  to  the  east  are  much  more  truly  mountain 
folk,  for  there  less  free  communication  between  mountain 
and  plain  is  possible. 

We  have  said  that  there  is  one  great  exception  to  the 
statement  that  in  the  Western  Alps  the  large  valleys  are 


LONGITUDINAL  AND  TRANSVERSE  VALLEYS    179 

mostly  transverae.  This  is  the  gigantic  furrow  which  runs 
from  Martigny  up  the  Rhone  valley,  is  continued  across  a 
low  watershed  (Furka  Pass)  into  a  part  of  the  upper  Reuss 
valley,  here  called  the  Urserntal,  and  then  across  another 
watershed  (Oberalp  Pass)  into  the  Vorder  Rhine  valley  to 
end  near  the  town  of  Chur,  where  the  Rhine  valley  takes  a 
sharp  curve.  At  its  extremities  this  great  furrow  separates 
the  Calcareous  from  the  Crystalline  Alps,  but  in  its  centre 
it  runs  through  the  heart  of  the  latter.  It  passes  through 
the  two  cantons  of  Valais  and  Grisons,  and  gives  to  the 
people  of  both  those  cantons  something  of  the  aloofness 
which  is  common  in  the  Eastern  Alps,  for,  as  in  the  latter, 
communications  with  other  regions  are,  or  were  once,  rela- 
tively difficult.  In  this  connection  we  may  note  that  such 
longitudinal  valleys  often,  as  in  the  case  of  both  the  Rhine 
and  the  Rhone  in  the  present  one,  connect  with  transverse 
valleys  at  their  extremities,  a  sharp  bend  taking  place  at  the 
connection.  In  such  transverse  valleys  there  are  often  deep 
gorges  where  the  river  has  cut  its  way  through  a  rocky  bar. 
These  gorges  may,  in  early  days,  offer  a  considerable  obstacle 
to  easy  communication,  and  thus  help  to  preserve  the  remote- 
ness of  the  longitudinal  stretch  of  the  valley.  Both  the 
cantons  named,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  did  not  join  the 
Swiss  confederation  till  the  early  nineteenth  century,  a  fact 
which  may  be  directly  connected  with  their  geographical 
isolation. 

We  have  stated  above  that  the  Rhone-Rhine  furrow  at 
its  extremities  separates  the  Calcareous  Alps  to  the  north 
from  the  CrystaUine  Alps  to  the  south,  but  this  is  only  true 
for  its  extremities,  for  near  the  centre  we  find  that  the 
Finsteraarhorn,  and  the  great  mass  of  peaks  near  it  which 
he  north  of  the  furrow,  belong  to  the  CrystaUine  Alps.  It 
is  worth  notice  in  this  connection  that  the  more  numerous 
longitudinal  valleys  of  the  Eastern  Alps  do  demarcate,  more 
or  leas  sharply,  in  certain  areas  at  least,  the  two  types  of 


180  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

rocks.  Thus  the  furrow  indicated  by  the  Une  of  the  Arlberg 
railway  from  Bludenz  to  Landeck,  then  the  Inn  valley  from 
Landeck  to  Worgl,  and  successively  the  Enns  and  Salza 
valleys,  cuts  off  the  Calcareous  Alps  to  the  north  from  the 
Crystalhue  range  to  the  south,  and  the  Pustertal,  the  curious 
valley  due  to  the  Rienz,  and  then,  after  a  low  watershed,  to 
the  Drave  similarly  marks  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
CrystalHne  Alps.  On  the  other  hand,  the  longitudinal  valley 
of  the  Valtelhna,  though  parallel  to  the  boundary,  runs 
entirely  within  the  CrystalUne  series. 

More  interesting,  however,  to  the  ordinary  tourist  than 
the  geological  composition  of  the  Alps  is  their  covering  of 
snow  and  ice.  A  great  number  of  peaks,  both  isolated 
mountains  and  groups,  rise  above  the  snow  Hmit — that  is, 
more  snow  falls  throughout  the  year  than  the  summer  sun 
can  melt.  The  mean  snow  hne  in  the  Alps  is  about  9000 
feet,  or,  in  other  words,  above  this  Hmit,  on  the  average, 
permanent  snow  is  to  be  expected.  But,  owing  to  the 
extension  of  the  chain  in  latitude  and  longitude,  the  mean 
figure  affords  httle  guide  to  the  actual  conditions  to  be 
expected  in  any  particular  locahty.  Latitude  affects  the 
question  because,  other  things  being  equal,  the  more  southerly 
mountains  should  have  a  higher  snow  hmit  than  the  more 
northerly  ones  ;  longitude  affects  it  because,  broadly  speak- 
ing, precipitation  diminishes  towards  the  east,  and  the  less 
snow  falls  the  higher  will  the  snow  hmit  tend  to  be,  the  sun's 
melting  power  being  regarded  as  similar  in  the  two  cases. 
But  precipitation  in  the  Alps  is  far  from  depending  solely 
upon  longitude,  for  the  extent  to  which  the  rain-bearing 
winds  have  access  to  a  particular  area  counts  for  much. 
Thus  the  Valais  is  very  dry  and  the  snow  hmit  there  corre- 
spondingly high.  Further,  since  isolated  mountains  are 
notably  cooler  than  mountain  groups  the  snow  hmit  on  them 
is  lower  than  would  be  expected  from  their  height.  The 
Santis,  that  isolated  mountain  group  which  stands  between 


ORIGIN  OF  GLACIERS  181 

the  east  end  of  the  lake  of  Zuiich  and  the  Rhine,  is  an  admir- 
able example.  It  only  reaches  a  height  of  8200  feet  and  yet 
bears  permanent  snow.  On  the  great  Mont  Blanc  group, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  line  of  permanent  snow  rises  to  nearly 
10,000  feet,  and  on  Monte  Rosa  to  nearly  10,700  feet. 

One  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  all  surfaces  above 
the  Umits  named  are  snow-covered.  This  is  far  from  being 
the  case.  Many  slopes  above  the  snow  line  are  too  steep  to 
lodge  anything  but  a  minute  quantity  of  snow.  No  sooner 
has  the  crystalline  mantle  reached  a  certain  thickness  than 
the  force  of  gravity  overcomes  the  resistance  offered  by 
friction,  and  the  whole  mass  slides  downward  till  it  comes 
to  a  state  of  equilibrium  on  a  gentler  slope.  As  the  process 
is  constantly  repeated,  there  are  usually  well-marked  lines  or 
channels  down  which  the  snow  slips  in  constant  avalanches, 
and  it  is  easy  to  observe  how,  even  on  a  slope  which  seems 
relatively  moderate,  rocky  points  or  projections  tend — in 
technical  phrase — to  Hberate  avalanches. 

The  result  of  the  constant  slipping  is  that  snow  tends  to 
accumulate  in  regions  of  moderate  slope,  more  especially 
in  those  basins  and  troughs  which  are  so  much  more  abundant 
in  the  Eastern  than  in  the  Western  Alps.  Owing  to  the 
continuous  pressure  the  loose  crystals  lose  their  envelope  of 
air  and  become  compacted  together  to  form  neve  or  firn,  and 
from  the  neve  a  tongue  of  soUd  blue  ice  gUdes  slowly  down 
the  mountain,  generally  to  reach  a  valley,  though  sometimes 
the  incipient  glacier  stops  short  in  an  ice-cUff  from  which 
constant  ice  avalanches  thunder  down  to  the  valley  below. 
Existing  Alpine  glaciers  are  either  such  truncated  plateau 
glaciers,  or  at  best  mere  tongues  of  ice,  valley  glaciers,  as  they 
are  called,  occupying  valleys  far  too  big  for  them.  The 
latter,  though  shrunken  and  insignificant  as  compared  with 
their  homologues  in  Arctic  regions,  or  the  great  glaciers  of 
the  Ice  Age,  nevertheless  travel  far  below  the  snow  line. 

Almost  all  the  Alpine  glaciers   have  diminished  greatly 


182  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

within  the  last  fifty  years.  That  which  extends  farthest 
down  its  valley  at  the  present  time  is  the  lower  Grindelwald 
glacier,  which  descends  to  within  3800  feet  of  sea-level,  or 
about  5600  feet  below  the  snow-Hmit  in  the  region.  Com- 
pared with  the  conditions  which  exist,  e.g.  in  Alaska,  where 
the  glaciers  come  down  to  sea-level,  this  is  nothing  ;  but  it 
is  yet  a  phenomenon  sufficiently  striking  to  arouse  admira- 
tion and  surprise  in  the  unsophisticated  tourist,  and  to 
justify  the  enthusiastic  description  sometimes  given  by 
novices  of  Switzerland  as  a  country  where  one  may  meet  a 
glacier  while  walking  along  the  village  street. 

The  glacier  ending  or  snout  gives  rise  to  a  turbid  rapid 
stream,  generally  arising  from  an  obvious  ice-cave,  though 
often  it  is  difficult  or  impossible  to  reach  the  snout  owing  to 
the  masses  of  loose  debris  piled  up  around  it.  The  tourist's 
first  introduction  to  a  glacier  is  thus  more  generally  obtained 
after  a  toilsome  chmb  up  a  steep  valley  till  an  opportunity 
occurs  to  clamber  down  its  precipitous  rock  wall,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  hes  the  shrunken  ice-stream,  bordered  by  its  great 
wall-hke  moraines.  As  each  glacier  normally  has  its  border- 
ing moraine,  the  junction  of  two  glaciers  gives  rise  to  the 
phenomenon  of  a  median  moraine,  admirably  seen,  for  example, 
on  the  Gorner  glacier  at  Zermatt  or  on  the  Aletsch  glacier — 
the  typical  text-book  example.  The  other  more  obvious 
characteristics  of  a  glacier,  such  as  the  crevasses  and  ice  falls  ; 
the  great  crevasse  or  hergschrund  which  marks  the  spot  where 
the  stationary  iirn  passes  into  the  moving  glacier ;  the 
glacier  '  mills,'  down  which  water  carrying  stones  whirls 
ceaselessly  ;  the  frequent  occurrence  of  streams  of  water  or 
of  tiny  lakes  on  the  surface  of  the  ice  ;  the  glacier  tables  and 
the  small  stones  which,  instead  of  standing  on  an  ice  pedestal 
like  the  'tables,'  are  sunk  into  the  ice — all  these  are  described 
so  fully  in  all  the  ordinary  text-books,  and  can  be  so  readily 
seen  during  the  ordinary  easy  glacier  expeditions,  that  we 
need  not  discuss  them  here.     The  distribution  of  the  glaciated 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  ALPINE  GLACIERS        183 

surfaces  in  the  Alps,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  less  famiUar 
subject,  and  is  worth  special  note,  for  it  has  a  bearing  on  the 
question  of  the  part  of  the  Alps  which  it  is  most  profitable 
for  those  interested  in  glacial  phenomena  to  visit. 

The  glaciated  area  is  more  extensive  in  the  Swiss  than  in 
the  Austro-Italian  Alps.  According  to  calculations  which  are 
only  approximate,  some  800  square  miles  are  covered  by  ice 
within  the  boundary  of  Switzerland.  In  the  Eastern  Alps, 
excluding,  however,  the  Bernina  region,  which  is  included 
in  the  above  figures,  only  some  635  square  miles  of  ice  occur. 

As  the  Calcareous  Alps  occupy  so  large  a  part  of  the  surface 
in  the  Eastern  Alps  generally,  it  is  interesting  to  compare  the 
glaciation  of  the  CrystalKne  and  Calcareous  belts.  In  the 
Eastern  Alps  in  the  wider  sense  {i.e.  including  the  Bernina 
region)  the  total  glaciated  area  reaches  about  703  square 
miles.  Of  this  total  no  less  than  682  square  miles  fall  within 
the  CrystaUine  Alps,  while  the  remaining  area  of  21  square 
miles  is  almost  equally  divided  between  the  north  and  south 
Calcareous  Alps.  Thus  the  general  conclusion  is  that  to  see 
glacial  phenomena  at  their  fullest  development  we  must  go 
to  the  Swiss  rather  than  to  the  Eastern  Alps,  and  further 
that  it  is,  as  we  should  expect,  the  central  rather  than  the 
marginal  belts  of  the  mountains  which  are  most  fully  glaciated. 

Coming  more  to  details,  we  may  notice  that  in  Switzerland 
two  areas  stand  out  predominately  as  regions  of  intense 
glaciation.  These  are  the  part  of  the  Pennine  Alps  between 
the  Col  de  Fenetre  and  the  Monte  Moro  Pass,  and  the  region 
of  which  the  Finsteraarhorn  forms  the  centre.  In  the  former 
region  about  220  square  miles  of  surface  bear  glacier  ice,  in 
the  latter  some  190  square  miles.  To  reach  the  Pennine 
glaciers  one  has  a  choice  of  resorts  ranging  from  Fionnay 
below  the  Col  de  Fenetre  to  Saas  Fee  below  the  Monte  J\Ioro, 
but  the  predominating  village,  which  for  some  people  over- 
shadows all  others  in  this  belt,  is  Zermatt.  The  preference 
is  so  far  justified  that  within  easy  reach  of  this  township 


184  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

one  may  enjoy  probably  a  finer  glacial  panorama  than  any- 
where else  in  the  Alps,  and  two  of  the  glaciers,  the  Gorner 
fflacier  and  the  much  smaller  Findelen  glacier  are,  in  certain 
parts,  '  safe '  for  guideless  parties  whose  members  have  com- 
mon prudence  and  some  shght  experience  of  ice — no  glacier 
is  safe  for  persons  without  these  quahfications. 

The  Finsteraarhorn  region  is  most  easily  reached  from 
Grindelwald,  though  its  largest  glacier,  the  Aletsch,  which 
is  also  the  largest  in  the  Alps,  is  best  visited  from  the  south, 
from  Belalp,  the  Eggishorn  or  the  Eieder  Alp,  the  hotels 
of  the  first  two  being  great  favourites  with  EngUsh  people. 

In  the  Eastern  Alps  the  most  highly  glaciated  regions  are 
the  mountains  of  the  Oetztal  and  of  the  Ortler  group,  though 
the  largest  glacier  is  to  be  found  much  further  east  in  the 
Hohe  Tauern  group,  at  the  foot  of  the  Gross  Glockner.  The 
Oetztal  mountains  can  be  visited  from  a  number  of  villages 
in  the  long  valley,  e.g.  from  Solden  or  Vent.  For  the  Ortler 
one  has  a  choice  of  the  north-west  side,  with  Sulden  and  Trafoi, 
or  of  the  south-east  side  with  Santa  Caterina,  charmingly 
described  in  LesUe  Stephen's  Playground  of  Europe.  In  the 
above  short  hst  we  have  omitted  the  glaciers  of  Mont  Blanc, 
which,  though  relatively  small,  are  of  easy  access.  Chamonix 
is  here  the  most  popular  centre. 

The  existing  glaciers,  as  abeady  explained,  though  they 
still  cover  a  considerable  area,  are  pigmies  as  compared  with 
those  of  the  Ice  Age,  in  regard  to  which  we  must  say  some- 
thing. Before  doing  this,  however,  a  word  about  present 
shrinkage  may  be  advisable.  Glaciers  are  now  subjected, 
in  almost  all  parts  of  the  Alps,  to  very  careful  and  exact 
measurement,  but  this  is  due  to  a  comparatively  recent 
interest  in  the  subject  of  glaciation  in  general,  and  exact 
figures  are  available  for  short  periods  only.  It  is,  however, 
quite  certain  that  for  a  period  of  unknown  length,  which 
seems  to  have  ended  in  about  1855,  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps 
advanced  notably.     Between  that  date  and  certainly  the 


ICE  AGE  GLACIERS  185 

year  1909  they  displayed  a  very  marked  and  continuous 
retreat,  which  left  bare  tracts  of  ground  that  had  previously 
been  ice-covered.  Since  1909  there  has  been  some,  but  not 
very  definite  or  satisfactory,  evidence  of  a  sUght  advance, 
in  the  case  of  a  few  glaciers,  and  of  a  cessation  of  retreat  in 
the  case  of  some  others.  It  is  possible  that  a  period  of  notable 
advance  may  be  approaching,  but  as  to  this  nothing  definite 
can  be  said  meantime.  What  it  is,  however,  important  to 
realise  is  that  one  must  not  conceive  of  the  glacier  ice  of  the 
Alps  as  having  steadily  and  uniformly  diminished  since  the 
Ice  Age ;  there  have  certainly  been  minor  fluctuations,  possibly 
due  to  the  existence  of  minor  climatic  cycles.  Further,  one 
must  not  hastily  assume  that  an  exposed  glaciated  surface 
has  been  bare  of  ice  since  the  passing  away  of  the  Ice  Age, 
its  exposure  may  be  quite  a  recent  phenomenon. 

Turning  now  to  the  conditions  which  existed  in  the  Ice 
Age,  we  have  to  remember  that  whereas  Scotland  and  the 
greater  part  of  England  were  at  that  time  drowned  beneath 
an  ice-cap,  Central  Europe  was  only  glaciated  to  the  extent 
that  the  enlarged  glaciers  of  the  Alps  streamed  far  further 
out  upon  the  plains  than  they  do  to-day  —  there  was  no 
ice-cap.  Laborious  research  seems  to  have  estabhshed  that 
the  snow-Une  lay  some  4000  to  4250  feet  lower  than  at  present, 
bringing  the  mean  down  from  about  9000  feet  to  some  5000 
feet,  while  in  special  places  it  lay  even  under  4000  feet. 
This  was  apparently  due  not  to  a  great  increase  in  precipita- 
tion but  to  a  lowering  of  the  mean  temperature  by  from 
9°  to  5'5°  F,  Its  effect  on  the  forces  of  erosion  was  the  same 
as  adding  some  4000  feet  to  the  present  height  of  the  moun- 
tains, i.e.  was  equivalent  to  an  upUft.  The  consequence  was 
that  the  valleys  were  piled  high  with  ice,  which  rose  over 
their  walls  in  many  locahties  and  streamed  down  valleys 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  mountains,  so  that  the  ice-parting 
came  to  he  to  the  north  of  the  present  water-parting.  Fur- 
ther, the  valley  glaciers  extended  far  out  on  the  plains,  and 


186  THE  KEALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

left  there  a  load  of  coarse  and  fine  debris.  As  they  descended 
from  the  north  slope  of  the  Alps  the  great  glaciers  could  no 
longer  be  contained  in  their  own  valleys,  but  united  together 
to  form  expanded  tongues  of  ice  such  as  are  to-day  to  be  found 
in  Alaska  (see  Fig.  14).  These  great  ice  tongues  spread  out 
upon  the  plains,  and  within  them  were  included  the  present  sites 
of  Salzburg  and  Kufstein,  of  SchafEhausen,  Zurich  and  Berne. 
On  the  south  slopes,  on  the  other  hand,  the  glaciers  remained 
separate  from  one  another,  but  the  individual  glaciers  ex- 
tended far  out  on  the  plain  so  that,  for  example,  the  Etsch 
glacier  filled  up  the  present  Lake  Garda  and,  broadening  out 
into  a  fan  beyond  the  southern  extremity  of  this  lake,  left 
in  front  of  it  that  mass  of  morainic  hills  and  mounds  among 
which  the  battle  of  Solferino  was  fought. 

These  old  glaciers  have  modified  greatly  the  surface  of 
the  Alps  and  the  adjacent  country,  and  some  of  the  modifica- 
tions produced  can  be  readily  observed  by  the  ordinary 
tourist.  An  important  point  to  realise  is  that  the  valleys 
of  the  Alps  are,  in  technical  language,  preglacial,  or,  in  other 
words,  that  before  the  Ice  Age  they  existed  in  the  position 
in  which  they  are  now  found.  But  the  great  glaciers  which 
flowed  down  them  during  the  period  of  greatest  glaciation, 
combined  with  the  roaring  torrents  of  the  interglacial  periods, 
greatly  modified  their  form.  The  chief  changes  thus  pro- 
duced, some  of  which  are  of  much  human  importance, 
are — the  modification  of  the  heads  of  many  valleys  to 
form  '  kare  '  or  cirques  ;  the  deepening  of  the  main  valleys, 
which  causes  numerous  waterfalls  to  arise  where  the  side 
valleys  join  the  deepened  main  valleys,  which  again  gives 
rise  to  abundant  water  power  ;  the  smoothing  of  watersheds 
due  to  the  way  in  which  arms  of  the  great  glaciers  overrode 
the  sides  of  valleys,  this  smoothing  having  been  of  great 
importance  in  the  formation  of  the  Alpine  passes,  large  and 
small ;  the  marked  accentuation  of  the  basin  and  gorge 
arrangement  of  ordinary  river  valleys,  apparently  due  to  the 


:  To 


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Pi  I 

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CIRQUES  IN  THE  ALPS  187 

junction  of  tributary  glaciers  witli  ihe  main  one,  which 
renders  the  valleys  much  more  suitable  for  human  habitation 
and  thus  makes  their  exploration  easy  ;  the  excavation  of 
rock  basins  or  the  blocking  of  valleys  with  morainic  matter, 
which  leads  in  turn  to  the  great  development  of  marginal 
lakes,  often  of  great  beauty  ;  finally,  a  minor  but  striking 
feature,  due  to  the  accentuation  of  the  basin  and  gorge  arrange- 
ment, is  the  occurrence  of  rocky  bars  across  the  Alpine 
valleys,  the  bars  being  often  dissected  so  that  isolated  rocks 
arise,  which  have  been  in  the  past  of  strategic  importance, 
and  are  often  crowned  with  ruined  castles  (Plate  XVIII.).  Of 
these  the  first  only  has  no  apparent  human  importance  and 
may  be  discussed  here  ;  the  others  will  be  considered  in  the 
next  chapter  when  we  treat  of  some  typical  regions. 

Cirques  in  the  Alps  are  armchair-shaped  notches  lying 
below  the  summit  ridges  of  mountains,  which  are  sometimes 
empty  of  ice,  or  contain  small  cirque  glaciers,  or  form  the 
gathering  ground  and  point  of  origin  of  valley  glaciers.  The 
last  was  their  condition  during  the  Ice  Age,  so  that  function- 
ally a  cirque  is  the  head  of  a  glacier-containing  valley.  But 
not  all  glaciers  in  the  Alps  now  head  in  cirques.  They  are 
far  commoner  in  the  Eastern  than  in  the  Western  Alps,  and 
in  the  former  are  recognised  in  local  speech  ('  kare '),  just  as 
the  equivalent  structure  is  recognised  by  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Highlands  of  Scotland  both  in  its  English  form  of  corrie 
and  in  the  Gaelic  form  of  coire  (Plate  XXV.).  Into  the 
numerous  interesting  points  connected  with  cirques  we  can- 
not enter  here — something  more  must  be  said  in  the  chapter 
on  the  Highlands— but  the  cause  of  the  difference  between 
the  Eastern  and  Western  Alps  is  interesting. 

A  cirque  is  in  origin  a  modification  of  the  funnel-shaped  de- 
pression in  which  streams  tend  to  rise  in  mountains  of  smoothed 
and  rounded  form.  According  to  the  views  of  many,  perhaps 
most,  geographers,  the  effect  of  glaciation  is  to  convert  these 
wide  open  depressions  into  the  steep-sided  cirque,  whose  side 


188  THE  REALM  OF  SNOW  AND  ICE 

and  back  walls  are  continually  eaten  away  by  the  action  of 
frost,  owing  to  the  way  in  which  the  moving  ice  carries  off  frost- 
riven  debris  and  thus  leaves  new  sui'f aces  for  attack.     The  ice 
itself  owes  its  origin  to  the  way  in  which  snow  tends  to  collect 
in  these  valley  heads,  into  which  it  slips  from  the  slopes  above. 
If  we  suppose,  therefore,  that  a  glaciated  mountain  region  dur- 
ing the  Ice  Age  had,  before  the  onset  of  cold,  such  a  rounded 
or,  as  it  is  called,  a  '  subdued  '  form,  the  tendency  would  be  for 
the  heads  of  the  glaciers  to  eat  out  deep  notches  in  its  sides, 
generally  more  prominent  on  the  shaded  (north)  side  than  on 
others.     If  a  number  of  such  notches  developed  they  would 
gradually  approach  one  another  as  they  increased  in  size, 
and  lateral  erosion  would  give  rise  to  steep  ridges  between 
the  successive  notches,  while  erosion  at  the  back  of  each 
cirque  would  tend  to  turn  the  original  rounded  summit  into 
a  ridge  or  grat.     If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  mountain  region 
prior  to  severe  glaciation  had  already  sharp  ridges  and  aretes 
with  no  wide  depressions  in  which  snow  could  accumulate, 
the  characteristic  cirque  would  not  appear.     It  is  believed 
that  the  Western  Alps,  before  the  period  of  great  glaciation, 
had  generally  peaked  and  ridged  forms.     The  effect  of  glacia- 
tion was  to  accentuate  this,  but,  in  the  general  case,  it  made 
the  development  of  cirques  impossible.     In  the  Eastern  Alps 
the  forces  of  erosion  had,  before  the  Ice  Age,  worn  down  the 
peaks  and  ridges  and  aretes,  and  their  activity  was  slackening, 
for  the  mountains  were  largely  protected  by  a  covering  of 
their  own  waste.     The  ice  gave  to  the  eroding  forces  a  new 
tool,  with  which  new  and  deeper  etching  has  been  done,  the 
kare  being  a  stage  in  the  graving  process.     In  the  Highlands, 
as  we  shall  see  later,  the  smoothing,  and  rounding  of  forms, 
and  the  formation  of  a  protective  covering  of  rock  waste,  had 
proceeded  far  further,  and  when  the  ice  came  it  could  for  the 
most  part  only  dig  out  corries  in  the  smooth  mountain  sides, 
giving  one  the  curious  present  combination  of  sudden  preci- 
pice and  smooth  grassy  slope. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THEN   AND    NOW    IN   THE   ALPS 

'  Consider  how  this  habitable  earth,  with  all  its  rock-built  mountains 
and  flowery  plains,  is  for  ever  growing  and  pcrisliing  in  eternal  birth 
and  death — consider  how  the  winds  and  lightnings,  and  storms  of  rain 
and  hail,  and  flooded  rivers  and  lashing  seas  are  for  ever  cutting, 
mining,  gnawing  away,  confringing,  colhding  and  comminuting  the 
hills  and  the  shores,  yea,  and  the  sites  of  high-domed  cities — until 
every  mountain  shall  be  brought  low  and  every  capital  city  shall  he 
deep  "  at  the  bottom  of  the  monstrous  world."  ' 

A  GREAT  part  of  the  charm  of  the  Alpine  valleys  of  the  Central 
Chain,  as  we  have  said  in  various  forms,  is  due  to  the  efEect 
of  glaciation,  old  and  new.  Here  we  see  the  splendid  blue 
ice  of  to-day  hanging  high  above  the  valley,  there  the  effect 
of  past  ice  in  smoothing,  in  wearing  away,  in  transporting — 
in  all  its  manifold  activities.  The  existing  glaciers  help  us 
to  interpret  the  work  of  the  magnificent  glaciers  of  the  past ; 
the  efiects  produced  by  the  past  ice-rivers  enable  us  to  realise 
what  the  present  ones  are  doing,  unseen  by  us,  to  their  rocky 
beds,  to  appreciate  the  work  of  thefirn  far  up  on  the  mountain 
side.  Past  and  present  act  and  react ;  the  inarmites  of  the 
Gletschergarten  at  Lucerne  are  for  the  novice  a  call  to  the 
Alps  ;  to  the  sun-burnt  returning  tourist  on  his  homeward 
journey  they  are  no  less  absorbing,  for  they  complete  the 
picture  he  formed  when  he  stood  at  the  edge  of  a  great 
crevasse  and  heard  the  water  roaring  in  a  spiral  down  into 
the  heart  of  the  ice,  saw  the  stones  which  it  carried  do\NTi  to 
the  depths.     Let  us  try  to  elaborate  the  lesson  afforded  by 


190  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

glacier  garden  and  glacier  by  taking  an  imaginary  journey 
in  the  Ice  Age,  followed  by  one  over  the  same  ground  to-day. 

According  to  one  estimate,  which  is  httle  more  than  a 
vague  approximation,  some  20,000  years  have  elapsed  since 
the  last  series  of  Ice  Age  glaciers  began  to  retreat  up  their 
valleys.  How  long  the  preceding  glacial  period,  which 
according  to  one  widely  accepted  view  was  the  last  of  four 
separate  periods,  endured  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining. 
Let  us  imagine  ourselves,  however,  some  25,000  to  30,000 
years  back  in  time,  with  a  zeal  for  glacier  exploration.  It 
is  perhaps  needless  to  remark  that  there  is  no  evidence  that 
human  beings  with  such  tastes  existed  in  this  period.  Out- 
side the  glaciated  area  early  man  at  this  time  was  hunting 
the  reindeer,  mammoth  or  rhinoceros  with  the  help  of  stone 
javehns  which,  after  long  ages  of  striving,  he  had  learnt  to 
make  with  much  skill  and  some  dehcacy.  On  the  shores  of 
the  Mediterranean,  as  at  Mentone,  he  was  devoting  his  hours 
of  leisure  to  carving  in  bone  and  ivory  and  to  the  making  of 
shell  amulets  and  so  forth,  with,  we  may  reasonably  suppose, 
no  thought  of  the  man  of  the  future  who  was  to  spend  life 
and  wealth  in  toilsome  exploration  of  Arctic  glacier  and 
polar  ice-cap. 

Let  us  suppose,  however,  that  some  strayed  reindeer 
hunter,  of  roving  propensities,  found  himself,  some  30,000 
years  ago,  near  where  the  town  of  Olten  now  stands.  What 
would  he  see  if  he  stood  here,  facing  up  the  valley  ?  A 
quotation  from  a  modern  explorer  probably  fits  the  case 
with  some  accuracy  : — '  Hoping  to  see  the  pass  close  at  hand, 
I  beheld  instead  only  the  interminable  valley  slowly  bending 
round  and  stretching  away.  If  it  had  been  desolate  before, 
it  now  became  of  a  yet  more  dreadful  desolation,  surpassing 
anything  I  ever  saw  or  imagined.  No  view  could  be  more 
simple.  In  the  midst  was  a  river  flowing  between  banks 
of  ice  ;  on  either  hand  long  slopes  of  naked  debris  stretched 
up  in  unbroken  sweep  to  a  straight  hill  crest  just  edged  with 


A  VISION  OF  THE  ICE  AGE  191 

snow.  There  were  no  buttresses,  hardly  any  gulhes,  no 
precipices,  or  emerging  rocks,  and  no  peaks  above.  The 
whole  thing  bent  round  in  a  slow  curve.  "  Here  indeed,"  I 
thought  ''  Nature  ends."  The  worst  feature  in  the  view 
remains  to  be  mentioned  ;  it  was  a  wall  of  ice  that  blocked 
the  valley's  head,  presumably  some  great  glacier  we  should 
have  to  surmount.' 

The  quotation  is  from  Sir  W.  Martin  Conway's  The  First 
Crossing  of  Spitsbergen,  and  the  party  were  in  the  act  of 
crossing  from  one  side  of  Spitsbergen  to  the  other.  They 
hoped  to  find  a  low  pass  at  the  top  of  the  long  valley  up  which 
they  had  come,  and  instead  found  the  appearances  described, 
due,  as  they  soon  found,  to  the  fact  that  a  lateral  glacier  had 
crept  across  the  pass,  and  was  discharging  water  down  both 
sides  of  what  should  have  been  the  watershed. 

All  the  elements  in  the  view  of  our  Stone  Age  man  were 
much  larger  ;  let  us  try  to  analyse  them  in  a  Httle  detail. 
If,  however,  the  details  seem  fewer  than  some  would  hke,  we 
must  remember  that  our  far-off  ancestor's  forehead  was  low, 
and  his  powers  of  observation  and  deduction  probably  small ! 

Standing  at  Olten  we  are  looking  over  his  shoulder  up  the 
Aare  valley,  which  runs  here  from  south-west  to  north-east 
between  the  Jura  on  the  one  hand  and  the  foothills  of  the 
Alps  on  the  other.  Here  then  we  stand  on  a  part  of  the 
Swiss  high  plain,  which,  even  to-day,  is  in  winter  often 
drowned  in  mist  for  days  together  while  the  sun  shines  brightly 
on  the  heights.  In  the  far-off  days  of  which  we  are  speaking 
we  cannot  doubt  that  the  mist  was  denser  and  more  per- 
sistent, so  that  our  reindeer  hunter  would  be  fortunate  if  he 
caught  occasional  glimpses  of  his  surroundings,  as  the  wind 
chanced  to  di'ift  the  mist  curtain  this  way  or  that.  Around 
him  certainly  was  a  dreary  waste  of  stones  and  mud,  mingled 
with  ice  and  snow,  traversed  by  swift  turbid  streams,  carrying 
great  loads  of  debris  as  they  roared  down  all  the  surrounding 
slopes.     If  some  more  stable  heap  enabled  him  to  rise  above 


192  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

the  general  surface,  he  would  see  in  front  of  him,  some  twelve 
miles  away,  a  great  wall  of  ice,  such  as  Sir  Martin  Conway 
saw,  but  infinitely  greater,  from  which  many  streams 
arose.  This,  could  he  have  foreseen  the  terminology  of  future 
geographers,  he  would  have  recognised  as  a  mighty  arm  of 
the  huge  Rhone  glacier,  turned  north-east  out  of  its  proper 
course,  and  sending  water  via  the  Rhine  to  the  North  Sea, 
instead  of  draining,  like  the  present  insignificant  Rhone 
glacier,  only  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea  (Fig.  14). 

If,  in  disgust  at  this  great  mass  of  ice,  he  turned  to  his  own 
left  he  would  see  there,  even  nearer  to  him,  the  manifold 
lobes  of  another  great  glacier,  formed  by  the  union  of  the 
ice  of  the  Linth  and  Reuss  valleys,  and  concealing  the  future 
sites  of  Zurich,  Zug  and  Lucerne.  It  likewise  would  be 
sending  many  streams  to  the  Aare.  Suppose  he  decide  to 
advance  up  the  valley  to  the  south-west,  in  the  hope  of  finding 
there  some  means  of  exit  to  the  shores  of  the  Inland  Sea. 

Some  twelve  miles  of  a  weary  struggle  over  the  moraine- 
encumbered  plain  brings  him,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  snout 
of  the  great  valley  glacier,  which  on  the  one  side  is  jammed 
against  the  Jura,  so  that  it  rises  high  up  the  slopes  of  these 
mountains,  and  on  the  other  lies  against  the  lower  slopes  of 
the  hill  called  the  Napf.  The  snout  of  the  glacier  slopes 
steeply  upwards  to  a  height  of  some  hundreds  of  feet,  and 
our  hunter  will  have  something  of  a  tussle  before  he  is  able 
to  scramble  up  this  to  the  glacier  surface  proper.  He  will  be 
wise  indeed  to  keep  well  round  to  his  own  left,  for  here  the 
slope  of  the  snout  is  gentler.  Once  he  has  reached  the  surface 
he  will  find  the  slope  comparatively  easy,  and  he  will  probably 
be  able  to  see  far  across  the  glacier,  which  some  seven  miles 
from  its  extremity  reaches  a  width  of  fourteen  miles — a  width 
which  is  enormous  when  compared  with  the  existing  Aletsch 
glacier  (rather  over  one  mile  at  a  similar  point)  but  small 
compared  with  the  Beardmore  in  the  Antarctic,  which  is 
some  twenty  miles  wide  at  its  exit  from  the  mountains.     The 


THE  ANCIENT  RHONE  GLACIER 


193 


surface  of  the  glacier  is  arched,  the  higher  part  of  the  arch 
lying  towards  the  Jura,  for  here  the  ice  is  thickest. 


Fio.  14.— Sketch-map  of  a  part  of  the  Swiss  plateau  or  plain,  to  show 
its  probable  appearance  during  the  last  glacial  period,  as  deduced  from 
the  existing  terminal  moraines.  To  the  right  is  seen  a  part  of  the 
Reuss  glacier  with  which  the  Linth  glacier  united,  to  the  left  the 
eastern  arm  of  the  Rhone  glacier  which  was  joined  by  the  Aare  glacier. 
During  the  last  glacial  period,  as  explained  in  the  text,  there  was 
"  apparently  an  ice-free  area  between  the  ends  of  the  two  great  glaciers. 
(In  part  after  Penck  and  Bruckner.) 

Suppose  our  hunter  toils  bravely  onward  up  the  slope  of 
the  glacier,  what  will  he  see  ?     South-westward  stretches  the 


194  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

upper  part  of  the  huge  ice-river,  which  becomes  increasingly 
wide  as  he  loses  it  in  the  mist,  till  it  attains  in  the  far  distance 
a  maximum  width  of  some  twenty-five  miles,  and  this,  be 
it  remembered,  is  but  one  arm  of  the  great  Rhone  glacier. 
Further,  since  we  know  that  the  ice  was  thicker  than  the 
highest  of  the  hills  of  the  plain  {e.g.  higher  than  Mt.  Gibloux, 
which  reaches  nearly  4000  feet),  we  know  that  no  nunatak, 
such  as  those  which  occur  at  the  margin  of  the  Greenland 
ice-cap,  pierced  the  crystal  covering,  no  rock  peak  broke 
the  swelhng  dome  of  blue  ice.  Nothing  but  ice  then  stretches 
away  infinitely  from  our  hunter  in  the  south-west. 

But  as  he  plods  up  the  great  ice  slope  a  new  feature  draws 
his  attention  to  the  left.  Here,  at  a  point  which  marks  the 
future  site  of  the  town  of  Berne  there  enters  a  tributary  glacier, 
great  indeed  by  our  standards,  but  not  by  his,  for  it  is  only 
some  eight  miles  wide  where  it  spreads  out  at  its  exit  from 
the  side  valley.  This  is  the  Aare  glacier,  dammed  back 
and  rendered  insignificant  by  the  greater  arm  of  the  Rhone 
glacier,  but  nevertheless  an  ice-stream  of  much  import- 
ance. 

Unhke  the  main  glacier,  which  spreads  out  over  a  compara- 
tively wide  surface,  the  Aare  glacier  runs  in  a  somewhat 
narrow  valley,  at  whose  side  ice-free  areas  appear.  Here, 
therefore,  our  hunter  could  leave  the  ice  without  great  diffi- 
culty for  uncovered  land.  Let  us  suppose,  however,  that, 
bent  upon  solving  the  problem  of  ice-stream  relations,  he 
resolves  to  follow  the  Aare  glacier  up  its  valley,  in  order  to 
penetrate  to  the  heart  of  the  Alpine  chain.  His  adventures 
there  we  may  summarise  very  briefly. 

We  cannot  be  quite  sure  what  he  would  see  as  he  ascended 
the  Aare  glacier  above  Berne,  for  this  would  depend  upon  the 
era  of  his  visit.  If  it  was  towards  the  end  of  the  last  glacial 
period,  it  seems  certain  that  the  not  inconsiderable  hill  of 
the  Belpberg  (nearly  3000  feet  high)  protruded  through  the 
ice  as  an  island  of  rock,  and  divided  the  glacier  into  a  right 


THE  ANCIENT  KANDER  GLACIER  195 

and  left  arm.  At  an  earlier  stage,  however,  this  hill  was 
completely  drowned  in  ice. 

As  our  traveller  advances  past  this  point  he  finds  before 
him  a  glacier-filled  valley,  shaped  like  a  funnel,  widest  near 
what  will  be  in  ages  to  come  the  town  of  Thun,  and  narrowing 
from  this  point  towards  the  plain.  As  he  advances  to  the 
south-east,  he  notes  that  the  main  glacier  bends  away  at  an 
angle,  taking  a  nearly  eastward  direction.  On  his  right 
there  enters  a  small  tributary  glacier,  occupying  the  future 
Simmental,  and  a  much  larger  one,  which  runs  parallel  with 
the  main  Aare  glacier  for  a  time  before  uniting  with  it,  and 
joins  the  latter  at  almost  even  grade.  This  is  the  Kander 
glacier,  fed  by  the  Bliimhsalp  and  Wildstrubel  groups,  and 
occupying  the  important  valley  which  in  our  later  days 
contains  the  Lotschberg  railway. 

Let  us  suppose  that  our  reindeer  hunter,  with  some  per- 
ception of  its  future  importance,  elects  to  follow  this  tributary 
glacier,  and  so  traverse  a  valley  which  thousands  of  years 
afterwards  will  carry  many  joyful  winter  sportsmen  to  the 
village  of  Adelboden. 

As  our  traveller,  however,  has  no  thought  of  future  triumphs 
on  sledge  or  ski  to  distract  his  mind,  we  may  credit  him  with 
a  little  more  thoughtfulness  than  some  present-day  tourists, 
and  beUeve  that  he  often  turns  as  he  ascends,  to  gaze  at  the 
great  glacier  behind  him.  If  he  does  so  he  will  be  struck  by 
the  immense  mass  of  ice  piled  up  in  that  part  of  the  valley 
where  future  tourists  will  find  the  lakes  of  Thun  and  Brienz, 
a  mass  due  to  the  fact  that  practically  all  the  Oberland  is 
sending  its  quota  of  ice  into  that  narrow  valley.  Doubtless 
it  will  occur  to  him  that  that  great  mass  of  ice,  thickened  by 
the  junction  of  so  many  tributary  streams,  must  be  having 
a  great  effect  upon  the  valley  floor.  He  will  notice  also  as 
he  rises  the  huge  wall  of  moraine  which  separates  for  a  time 
the  Kander  glacier  from  the  main  one. 

Without   stopping   to   discuss   the  further   sights   of  the 


196  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

Kander  valley,  we  may  follow  our  guide  up  to  the  future 
site  of  Kandersteg,  now  buried  deep  beneath  the  ice,  and 
watch  him  as,  keeping  a  southerly  direction,  he  avoids  the 
upper  extremity  of  the  main  valley,  and  climbs  wearily  up 
the  steep  ice-slope  which  conceals  what  we  know  as  the  road 
to  the  Gemmi  Pass.  His  long  climb  brings  him  to  near  the 
head  of  the  Lammern  glacier,  and  here,  Uke  many  travellers 
since,  he  stands  to  take  in  the  marvellous  view  of  the  Pennine 
Alps,  as  seen  across  the  great  Rhone  valley,  now  filled  with 
an  enormous  ice-river.  But  while  tourists  to-day  must 
thereafter  descend  the  multitudinous  curves  of  the  steep 
Gemmi  path,  our  traveller  finds  that  an  arm  of  the  Lammern 
glacier  has  crossed  what  should  have  been  the  watershed, 
and  flows  steeply  down  to  join  the  great  Rhone  glacier  far 
below. 

Here,  therefore,  on  the  summit,  we  have  ice  flowing  two 
ways  :  northwards  to  melt  ultimately  in  order  to  supply 
water  to  the  Rhine,  or  southwards  to  join  the  Rhone  glacier. 
Let  us  suppose  that  our  hunter,  wearied  of  his  upward  plod- 
ding, elects  to  glissade  down  that  wayward  arm  of  the 
Lammern  glacier,  and  thus  find  his  way  to  the  Rhone  valley. 
Let  him  now  follow  this  great  glacier  downwards,  where  will 
he  find  himself  ultimately  ?  Below  Martigny  the  great 
glacier  swings  round,  changing  from  a  south-west  to  a  north- 
west direction,  and  as  he  approaches  the  region  where  Mon- 
treux  will  come  to  be  placed,  the  tendency  will  be  for  him  to 
be  carried  onwards  in  the  same  north-westerly  direction 
with  one  great  arm  of  the  glacier,  which  sweeps  on  till  its 
path  is  blocked  by  the  Jura,  and  it  is  forced  to  swing  round 
to  the  north-east,  where  it  forms  that  great  glacier  with 
which  we  started. 

If  he  avoid  this  arm,  the  other,  the  south-west  arm,  will 
carry  him  past  where  Geneva  will  later  arise  and  so  into  the 
rift  of  the  Lower  Rhone  valley.  If  both  arms  claim  his 
attention  successively,  he  will  arrive  finally  at  the  conception 


THE  ICE  AGE  AND  THE  PRESENT  197 

of  the  end  of  the  Rhone  glacier  as  a  hammer-like  structure, 
the  handle  of  the  hammer  lying  up  the  valley  to  end  at 
Martigny,  and  the  two  parts  of  the  head  lying,  the  one 
against  the  Jura  till,  as  we  have  seen,  it  melts  away  near 
Olten,  and  the  other,  also  jammed  against  the  Jura,  extend- 
ing past  Geneva  and  so  beyond  our  ken.  The  whole  of  the 
site  of  Lake  Geneva,  he  will  thus  perceive,  hes  within  the  ice, 
and  the  angle  between  the  two  parts  of  the  lake  indicates 
the  region  where  the  two  arms  of  the  glacier  diverged. 

Now  let  us  repeat  this  long  journey  to-day  as  an  example 
of  a  simple  Swiss  tour.  We  arrive  from  the  north  at  Basel, 
and  decide  to  travel  to  the  Valais  via  the  Gemmi  Pass.  The 
railway  takes  us  through  the  Jura  to  Olten  on  the  Aare, 
and  from  Olten  along  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Swiss  plain 
to  Berne,  likewise  on  the  Aare.  If  we  have  taken  the  shortest 
route,  the  Aare  obviously  either  does  not  share  Euclid's 
views  on  the  question  of  what  constitutes  the  shortest  distance 
between  two  points,  or  has  abandoned  all  thought  of  this. 
Has  our  reindeer  hunter  any  Hght  to  cast  upon  this  pre- 
Uminary  problem  ? 

His  experiences  at  any  rate  serve  to  draw  our  attention 
to  the  fact  that  the  Aare  so  far  as  Berne,  like  the  streams  of 
the  Alpine  foreland  to  the  north-east  of  this  river,  flows 
generally  in  a  north-westerly  direction,  that  is,  down  the 
slope  of  the  ground.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rivers  lying 
to  the  south-west  of  Berne  flow  in  directions  from  north  to 
north-east,  because  they  are,  as  it  were,  dragged  into  the 
hollow  left  by  the  great  arm  of  the  Rhone  glacier.  This 
glacier,  we  saw,  was  thickest  near  the  Jura.  There  it  has  left 
a.  specially  deep  furrow,  parts  of  which  are  occupied  by  lakes 
Neuchatel  and  Bienne,  while  the  narrowed  north-eastern  end 
carries  the  Aare  from  Bienne  to  Brugg,  the  river  here  being 
like  the  Danube  to  the  north  of  the  Eastern  Alps,  a  collecting 
river,  gathering  up  the  Alpine  streams.     The  Aare  has  been 


198  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

artificially  diverted  to  Lake  Bieirne,  but  apart  from  this 
diversion  it  is  obvious  that  there  is  a  curiously  circuitous 
tract  between  the  two  parts  of  its  course,  that  is,  between 
its  north-westerly  course  to  Berne,  and  its  north-easterly 
one  beyond  the  diversion.  The  reason  is  that  its  preglacial 
course  north-westward  over  the  plain  was  blocked  by  moraines 
left  by  the  great  glaciers,  and  after  the  passing  away  of  the 
ice  it  had  to  dig  out  for  itself  a  new  channel.  Beyond  this 
moraine-blocked  region  it  reached  the  great  funnel-shaped 
valley  left  by  the  arm  of  the  Rhone  glacier  and  was  drawn 
into  this. 

From  Berne  we  next  follow  the  Aare  valley  up  to  Thun, 
but  if  time  permit  it  is  well  to  make  a  detour  to  chmb  the 
Belpberg,  at  once  a  fine  viewpoint  and  a  region  of  great 
interest. 

The  view  we  need  not  take  time  to  describe  ;  the  interest 
lies  in  the  fact  that,  as  already  stated,  at  one  period  the 
Aare  glacier  split  in  two  parts  to  the  south-east  of  this  hill, 
which  thus  formed  an  '  island  '  in  the  midst  of  the  ice.  But 
it  will  be  noted  that  above  the  mountain  the  valley  is  wider 
than  it  is  at  this  point,  and  further  that  the  map  suggests 
that  there  was  once  a  belt  of  rock  across  the  valley  at  this 
narrowed  region.  In  other  words,  the  mountain  of  the 
Belpberg  is  all  that  remains  of  a  rocky  bar  which  once  stretched 
across  the  Aare  valley,  the  sides  of  the  bar  having  been  worn 
away.  The  fine  castle-crowned  rock  which  stands  up  at  Arco 
near  the  head  of  Lake  Garda  is  another  example  of  the  same 
phenomenon,  and  we  have  in  the  Alps  all  stages  in  the  dis- 
section of  such  rocky  bars  (Plate  XVIII.). 

From  Thun  we  may  take  railway  or  steamboat  to  Spiez  on 
the  beautiful  lake,  and  we  note  that  the  lake  occupies  a  part 
of  the  region  where  the  ice  lay  thickest.  If  partially  dammed 
by  moraines  at  its  lower  end,  it  is  apparently  also  in  part  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  ice  with  its  load  of  stones  and  sub-glacial 
streams  wore  away  a  hollow  in  the  floor  of  the  valley.     The 


OVERDEEPENED  VALLEYS  AND  ROCKY  BARS    199 

Kander  river  now  debouches  into  the  lake  at  Spiez,  but  this 
is  due  to  human  interference  ;  in  earUer  days  it  ran  along 
the  side  of  the  lake  and  joined  the  Aare  below  its  exit,  as  the 
Arve  joins  the  Rhone  below  Lake  Geneva.  We  note  that  the 
Kander  valley  slopes  down  gradually  to  lake  level,  while  the 
Simmental  is  separated  from  the  main  valley  by  a  steep  slope, 
a  *  step,'  through  which  the  river  has  cut  a  defile.  This  is 
beUeved  to  be  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Kander  glacier,  owing 
to  its  size,  lowered  its  valley  floor  to  approximately  the  same 
extent  as  did  the  main  glacier,  while  the  small  Simmen 
glacier,  partly  owing  to  the  way  in  which  it  was  dammed 
back  by  the  main  glacier,  wore  away  its  valley  floor  but 
little,  so  that  the  main  valley  is  *  overdeepened  '  as  compared 
with  the  '  hanging '  side  valley.  Though  only  slightly 
marked  here,  the  phenomenon  is  very  striking  in  many  other 
parts  of  Switzerland. 

One  other  point  is  very  noticeable.  At  what  is  now  the 
upper  end  of  the  lake  of  Thun  the  Lutschine  glacier  joined 
the  Aare  glacier,  the  two  being  of  approximately  equivalent 
size.  There  must  have  been  tremendous  ice-pressure  where 
the  two  streams  joined,  and  we  note  that  the  lake  occurs  just 
below  the  junction.  A  httle  lower,  as  we  have  seen,  the  great 
Kander  glacier  also  brought  its  load  of  ice  into  the  crowded 
valley.  There  is  not  always  a  lake  in  such  a  position  as 
this,  for  lakes  are  short-hved  structures  always  tending  to 
become  silted  up.  But  we  cannot  too  soon  appreciate  the 
fact  that  basins  in  Alpine  valleys,  whether  they  contain 
water  or  not,  generally  occur  near  points  where  once  there 
was  a  junction  of  glaciers.  Further,  below  the  basin  there 
is  often  a  bar  (German  Riegel),  as  if,  after  the  tremendous 
struggle  and  consequent  increased  rapidity  of  movement 
and  of  erosion  which  occurred  when  two  or  more  large  glaciers 
had  to  accommodate  themselves  to  a  single  valley,  there 
ensued  a  quieter  stretch  where  erosion  was  at  a  minimum. 
Before  we  leave  the  valley  of  the  Aare  it  is  difficult  to  avoid 


200  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

a  glance  at  another  interesting  phenomenon  which  occurs 
higher  up.  We  find  that  always  when  the  valley  down 
which  an  Ice  Age  glacier  was  travelling  took  a  sudden 
curve,  it  was  difficult  for  the  glacier  to  accommodate  itself 
to  the  change  of  direction,  and  it  showed  a  tendency  to 
continue  its  original  direction.  Thus  below  Meiringen  the 
Aare  glacier  found  it  difficult  to  bend  round  to  occupy  the 
valley  in  which  Lake  Brienz  now  Kes,  and  in  the  struggle, 
as  it  were,  it  contrived  to  send  an  arm  over  the  valley  wall, 
an  arm  which  smoothed  out  the  region  we  now  call  the 
Briinig  pass.  We  could  travel  from  Thun  by  lakes  Thun 
and  Brienz  and  then  via  the  Briinig  to  Lucerne,  and  then, 
though  we  had  never  touched  the  Alps  proper,  we  should 
yet  have  seen  much  of  the  action  of  past  ice.  Incidentally 
we  may  notice  that  the  great  north-east  arm  of  the  Rhone 
glacier,  which  we  have  described  so  fully,  is  another  example 
of  the  tendency  of  the  Ice  Age  glaciers  to  continue  moving 
in  the  same  straight  hne,  even  though  the  valleys  in  which 
they  lay  curved. 

We  shall  not  discuss  the  valley  of  the  Kander  in  detail, 
though  it  offers  much  of  interest ;  probably  most  tourists 
will  traverse  it  by  train  up  to  Kandersteg.  This  village  lies 
in  an  interesting  example  of  a  basin  due  to  the  union  of 
glaciers,  though  the  basin  has  been  cut  in  two  by  a  landshp 
not  far  below  the  village.  The  path  to  the  Gemmi,  again, 
is  a  beautiful  example  of  a  hanging  side  valley,  for  the  glacier 
which  once  traversed  it  was  insignificant  compared  to  those 
which  streamed  down  from  the  BliimKsalp  group.  The 
Gemmi  pass,  with  the  beautiful  little  Daubensee,  we  have 
already  explained  as  due  to  the  bifurcation  of  the  Lammern 
glacier,  and  we  must  not  forget  to  notice  the  wonderful 
portal,  whose  door-posts  are  the  Daubenhorn  and  the  Platten- 
horn,  between  which  the  intrusive  ice-tongue  found  its  way 
by  the  Dala  valley  to  the  Rhone  valley.  The  Dala  valley 
was  overdeepened  by  its  own  glacier,  a  far  more  important  ice- 


GLACIATED  VALLEYS  201 

stream  than  that  tributary  which  diverged  from  the  Lammern. 
Thus  the  Gcmmi  pass  hangs  high  above  the  basin  in  which 
the  Baths  of  Leuk  he,  and  the  route  from  the  one  to  the  other 
Ues  down  the  precipitous  Gemmiwand,  that  wonderful  cliff 
over  which  the  swift  lightning  plays  in  the  sudden  summer 
thunderstorms. 

But  as  the  arm  of  the  Lammern  was  to  the  Dala  glacier, 
so  was  the  latter  to  the  Rhone  glacier,  and  therefore  just 
as  the  Gemmi  pass  hangs  high  above  the  Dala  valley,  so 
in  its  turn  does  the  Dala  hang  high  above  the  Rhone 
valley. 

The  Fates  are  kinder  to  us  than  to  the  men  of  the  Old  Stone 
Age  in  that  locomotion  is  much  easier.  When  we  reach  the 
Rhone  valley  at  Leuk,  therefore,  let  us  turn,  not  down  the 
valley  to  the  lake,  but  up  toward  its  head. 

The  shape  of  the  main  valley  is  very  striking.  Whereas 
river  valleys  in  general  have  walls  which  converge  towards 
the  bottom,  that  is,  are  V-shaped,  this  valley  is  broad  at  the 
base,  or  U-shaped,  a  phenomenon  common  in  glaciated  valleys, 
and  ascribed  to  the  action  of  the  ice.  Further,  the  walls  are 
very  steep,  and  over  these  steep  walls  the  '  hanging  '  lateral 
streams  tumble  in  waterfalls,  ofttimes  used  for  the  generation 
of  electricity.  To  this  rule  there  are  only  two  notable 
exceptions.  The  Visp  and  the  Dranse  both  enter  the  Rhone 
valley  by  comparatively  gentle  slopes,  such  as  those  which 
occur  when  tributaries  in  non-glaciated  regions  join  a  main 
stream.  The  reason  is  the  same  as  that  aheady  given  for 
the  Aare  valley.  That  is,  both  the  Visp  valley  and  the 
Dranse  valley  in  glacial  times  contained  very  large  glaciers, 
which  had,  apparently,  a  marked  deepening  eflect ;  there  is 
therefore  not  that  want  of  concordance  between  main  and 
side  valley  which  occurs  where  their  respective  glaciers  were 
of  very  unequal  dimensions. 

One  other  feature  of  the  Rhone  valley  may  be  noted,  though 
we  shall  consider  it  further  in  a  moment  in  the  case  of  the  Visp 


202  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

valley.  This  is  that  above  the  steep  wall  which  rises  from 
the  present  valley  floor  there  lies  a  region  of  much  gentler  slope, 
which  forms,  as  it  were,  a  terrace  on  the  mountain  side.  This 
terrace  is  a  common  feature  in  the  Alps,  being  admirably 
seen,  for  example,  in  the  Lauterbrunnen  valley,  and  on  it 
health  resorts  are  often  placed.  It  is  beheved  to  represent 
the  preglacial  valley  floor,  and  on  this  hypothesis  the  distance 
between  its  edge  and  the  present  stream  level  represents  the 
'  overdeepening  '  due  to  ice. 

Let  us  now  suppose  that  we  have  reached  Visp,  where  we 
may  turn  up  the  valley  of  the  same  name,  noting  as  we  pass 
Stalden  the  entrance  of  the  Saas  valley,  which  once  carried 
a  glacier  roughly  equivalent  to  the  Visp  glacier,  so  that  the 
two  valleys  now  join  approximately  at  grade.  As  we  travel 
up  the  valley  also,  we  notice  the  usual  alternation  of  basin 
and  gorge,  the  basins,  however,  being  here  small,  for  no 
noticeable  tributaries  joined  the  great  glacier  till  we  reach 
the  relatively  wide  trough  at  the  valley  head,  in  which 
Zermatt  Hes.  A  very  obvious  feature,  on  the  other  hand, 
as  we  ascend,  is  the  presence  of  a  sloping  shelf  high  above 
the  present  valley  wall,  a  shelf  on  which,  in  the  lower  section 
of  the  valley,  an  almost  continuous  row  of  hamlets  stands, 
among  which  Torbet  and  Emd  are  conspicuous.  The  vaUey 
owes  its  relatively  high  population  to  the  possibiHty  of 
utihsing  those  sloping  terraces  for  pasture  or  cultivation. 

The  basin  in  which  Zermatt  hes  must  obviously  be  corre- 
lated with  the  numerous  surrounding  glaciers,  now  sadly 
shrunken,  which  once  united  to  form  the  great  Visp 
glacier. 

Let  us  suppose  that  we  arrive  at  the  village  of  Zermatt 
in  clear  weather.  One  of  the  first  disappointments  will 
certainly  be  that,  of  all  the  mountains  which  we  know  sur- 
round it,  only  the  Matterhorn  can  be  clearly  seen.  The  others 
stand  back  from  the  valley,  rising  above  a  sloping  terrace  to 
reach  which  we  have  to  surmount  the  steep  containing  wall  of 


GLACIATION  IN  THE  VALAIS  203 

the  basin.  This  means  a  climb  of  not  less  than  1500  feet  in 
whatever  direction  we  choose.  Now  all  visitors  to  Zermatt 
want  to  see  the  mountains,  but  not  all  want  to  cUmb  1500  feet 
every  day — or  any  day — to  see  them,  and  the  prudent  Swiss  has 
taken  cognisance  of  the  fact.  One  part  of  the  sloping  shelf, 
that  which  has  the  double  advantage  of  facing  the  splendid 
pyramid  of  the  Matterhorn  and  of  having  a  sunny  exposure, 
bears  the  large  hotels  of  the  Riffelalp  and  the  Riffelberg,  can 
be  reached  by  train,  and  offers  every  advantage  the  EngUsh 
tourist  can  desire,  including  a  glacier  within  easy  reach. 
Far  less  pretentious  is  the  little  inn  at  Findelen,  but  the  part 
of  the  shelf  here  is  of  great  interest,  for  it  bears  the  loftiest 
rye-fields  in  Switzerland,  and  its  blooming  meadows  are 
carefully  irrigated  from  the  slopes  above.  The  Schwarzsee 
hotel  occupies  another  part  of  the  shelf,  and  we  probably 
need  not  labour  further  the  point  that  its  Ice  Age  glaciers 
apparently  overdeepened  the  Zermatt  basin  by  about  1500 
feet,  and  that  in  consequence,  extending  upwards  from  this 
height  above  the  valley,  we  have  remnants  of  the  sloping 
preglacial  valley  floor,  whose  debris-strewn  surface  produces 
fine  pasture,  and,  in  favourable  spots,  even  corn  crops. 

Almost  any  other  Alpine  valley  will  show  the  same  thing, 
with  varying  clearness.  The  overdeepening  is  singularly 
obvious,  for  instance,  in  the  Val  de  Bagnes,  near  Fionnay, 
where  at  an  elevation  of  some  2000  feet  up  the  steep  slopes 
seen  in  Plate  XIII.  there  occurs  a  high  terrace  with  a  very 
rich  alpine  flora.  The  absence  of  side-valleys  here  makes  the 
region  suitable  chiefly  to  two  classes  of  people  : — First,  those 
content  to  sit  in  the  woods  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  so  to 
speak,  and  second,  those  who  can  face  with  equanimity  a 
climb  of  well  over  2000  feet  before  they  can  go  for  a  walk. 
But  it  is  a  charming  place,  none  the  less  ! 

Finally  let  us  tear  ourselves  away  from  this  sunny  Valais, 
with  its  dry  cUmate  and  endless  irrigation  channels,  and 
return  homewards  via  the  Grimsel  pass,  in  order  to  take  a 


204  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

glance  at  the  upper  part  of  that  Aare  valley  whose  lower 
reaches  we  have  discussed  so  fully.  As  we  travel  from 
Visp  to  Brig  we  note  that  here  took  place  once  the  junction 
of  the  Rhone  and  Aletsch  glaciers,  a  fact  which  must  have 
some  bearing  upon  the  origin  of  that  great  basin  which 
stretches  from  Brig  to  Martigny,  within  the  Rhone  valley. 

At  the  head  of  the  valley  we  must  spare  time  for  a  glance 
at  the  existing  Rhone  glacier,  so  shrunken  as  compared  with 
its  former  magnificence,  must  also  not  fail  to  note  that 
the  Grimsel,  the  pass  which  takes  us  over  into  the  valley 
of  the  Aare,  has  been  worn  out  by  an  aberrant  branch  of 
the  old  Rhone  glacier,  which  pushed  over  into  the  Haslital. 
Down  this  valley  we  must  hurry,  noting  only  in  passing  the 
beautiful  clearness  with  which  the  gorge  and  basin  effect  is 
shown,  and  stopping  to  admire  the  wide  basin  of  Innertkirchen, 
and  its  causation  in  the  converging  valleys,  once  glacier- 
carrying.  Further,  we  must  leave  the  coach  in  order  to 
inspect  in  detail  that  most  perfect  example  of  a  rocky  bar 
which  blocks  the  basin  below,  and  has  at  one  side  a  now 
functionless  notch  and  at  the  other  the  marvellous  Aare- 
schlucht,  where  the  river  has  cut  down  a  stupendous  narrow 
gorge  through  the  obstruction.  To  appreciate  the  meaning 
of  this  barrier  is  to  find  it  easy  to  understand  all  those  stages 
from  the  complete  bar  to  its  last  remnant  in  the  isolated 
hill  or  hills  left  in  the  middle  of  an  open  valley  (Plate  XVIII. ), 
stages  which  one  can  trace  in  the  valleys  from  one  end  of 
the  Alps  to  the  other. 

Nor  must  we  forget  to  notice  that  while  the  ice  of  the  old 
days  had  its  fullest  erosive  effect  in  the  basin  and  its  least 
at  the  site  of  the  bar,  running  water  to-day  is  reversing  the 
process  ;  for  it  deposits  alluvium  in  the  basins,  and  thus 
renders  them  more  suited  to  human  occupation,  and,  with 
the  help  of  its  load  of  fine  waste,  wears  down  a  part  of  the 
bar  which  blocks  its  progress  into  a  deep  gorge,  and  ultimately 
tends  to  reduce  the  originally  continuous  barrier  into  the 


THE  GORGE  OF  THE  AARE  205 

condition  of  an  '  island  hill.'     Thus  running  water  is  smooth- 
ing out  the  irregularities  left  by  the  ice. 

The  gorge  traversed,  we  must  hasten  on  to  Meiringen  to 
catch  our  train  for  Thun  or  Lucerne  and  home,  only  glancing 
at  the  Reichenbach  fall  as  a  splendid  example  of  one  of  those 
falls  due  to  the  overdeepening  of  the  main  valley,  here,  as 
so  frequently  in  Switzerland,  harnessed  for  the  use  of  man. 
And  so  home  with,  let  us  hope,  some  increased  knowledge 
of  ice,  past  and  present. 

References.  The  best  description,  in  English,  of  recent  views  as 
to  the  origin  of  the  Alps  is  that  in  James  Geikie's  Mountains :  their 
Origin,  Growth  and  Decay,  1913.  Suess's  monumental  work,  trans- 
lated as  The  Face  of  the  Earth,  should  also  be  consulted,  but,  save  for 
speciahsts,  it  is  very  stiff  reading.  For  the  Ice  Age  see  James  Geikie's 
3'Ae  Great  Ice  Age,  third  edition,  1894,  and  the  two  massive  volumes  of 
Penck  and  Briickner's  Die  Alpen  im  Eiszeitaller,  1909 ;  the  descrip- 
tions in  the  chapter  just  ended  have  been  taken  chiefly  from  this  book. 
Hobbs'  Characteristics  of  Existing  Glaciers,  1911,  discusses  many  of 
the  points  connected  with  the  action  of  ice  from,  broadly  speaking, 
the  standpoint  which  has  been  adopted  here,  while  Bonney's  The 
Building  of  the  Alps,  1912,  takes  the  position  that  ice  does  not  erode, 
and  in  many  other  respects  also  deviates  from  the  views  usually  held 
by  geologists.  Two  little  books,  both  belonging  to  the  Sammlung 
Goschen,  Landeskunde  der  Schweiz,  by  Hermann  Walser,  second  edition, 
1914,  and  Sieger's  Die  Alpen,  second  edition,  1914,  cost  only  a  few  pence 
each  and  contain  much  interesting  information.  Krebs"  Ldnderkunde 
der  Osier reichischen  Alpen,  with  its  annotated  bibliographies,  will  be 
found  exceedingly  useful  in  regard  to  the  Eastern  Alps,  and  treats  also 
the  general  subject  to  a  certain  extent.  The  Alps  have  so  copious  a 
literature  of  their  own  that  this  list  might  be  extended  almost  in- 
definitely, but  one  other  book  with  bibliographies  may  be  mentioned 
for  the  benefit  of  those  to  whom  French  is  easier  reading  than  German. 
This  is  de  Martonne's  Traite  de  Geographic  Physique,  second  edition, 
1913,  with  a  full  account  of  glaciers  and  glaciation. 

In  regard  to  maps  the  Swiss  school  atlas  mentioned  on  p.  40  has 
some  good  plates  of  parts  of  the  Alps,  but  for  detailed  study  the  topo- 
graphic maps  of    the    countries    concerned   are  of    course  essential. 


206  THEN  AND  NOW  IN  THE  ALPS 

Details  can  be  found  in  the  better  class  of  guide-books  dealing  with  the 
special  regions. 

Space  has  not  permitted  of  a  treatment  of  the  interesting  problems 
of  human  geography  which  arise  in  the  Alps.  Krebs  deals  with  these 
to  some  extent,  and  there  is  an  interesting  Uttle  local  guide-book, 
called  Das  Vol  d' Anniviers,  by  Dr.  Jegerlehner,  which  gives  a  good 
account  of  conditions  in  the  side-valleys  of  the  Valais.  For  man 
in  the  Ice  Age  reference  may  be  made  to  Man  and  his  Forerunners,  by 
Buttel-Reepen,  translated  by  Thacker,  1913. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

HILLS   AND   VALLEYS   IN  THE   DOLOMITES 

'  He  putteth  forth  his  hand  upon  the  rock  ;  he  overturneth  the 
mountains  by  the  roots.  He  cutteth  out  rivers  among  the  rocks  ;  and 
his  eye  seeth  every  precious  thing.  He  bindeth  the  floods  from  over- 
flowing ;   and  the  thing  that  is  hid  bringeth  he  forth  to  Ught.' 

As  a  contrast  to  the  High  Alps,  where,  to  the  average  observer, 
the  most  obvious  features  are  the  snow  and  ice  of  the  present 
and  the  effects  of  past  glaciation,  let  us  take  a  part  of  the 
lower  Calcareous  Alps,  for  here  the  rocks  make  the  most 
insistent  appeal. 

The  great  limestone  precipices  of  the  Calcareous  Alps  are 
almost  everywhere  an  imposing  characteristic,  but  that 
particular  part  of  them  called  the  Dolomites,  where  to 
splendid  chffs  we  have  added  bizarre  towers  and  pinnacles 
of  wonderful  beauty  of  colour,  may  be  regarded  as  the  most 
striking.  Further,  we  are  fortunate  in  having,  in  addition 
to  many  modern  books  of  varying  merit,  in  Gilbert  and 
Churchill 's  Dolomite  Mountains  a  book  which,  in  combina- 
tion with  great  seriousness  and  sobriety  of  statement, 
exhibits  that  joy  in  exploration  which  is  the  breath  of  life 
to  a  book  of  travel.  Theirs  were  early  days  also,  when  the 
Dolomities  were  '  unclimbable,'  and  when,  we  may  be  sure, 
the  ladies  whose  identities  were  so  decorously  concealed 
beneath  their  initials  wore  costumes  as  unsuitable  for  active 
locomotion  as  the  heart  of  man  could  conceive,  so  that  the 
crossing  even  of  the  Seiser  alp  was  not  accomplished  without 
some  heroism.     The  book  is  one  which  should  be  read  as  a 

207 


208     HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

first  introduction  by  every  visitor  to  the  region,  and  some 
amusement  may  be  derived— of  course  on  an  '  ofE-day ' — 
by  the  philosophically-minded,  while  lying  on  a  sunny  hillside, 
by  reflecting  on  the  contrast  between  those  days  (the  early 
'sixties)  and  the  present.  Now,  on  a  fine  day  in  full  summer, 
even  the  higher  passes,  whose  crossing  was  an  adventure  of 
the  first  magnitude  to  S.  and  A.,  possibly  attired  in  crinoHnes 
and  thin  elastic-sided  boots,  are  traversed  by  an  almost  ceaseless 
stream  of  walkers,  mostly  of  German  speech.  Old  and  young, 
grandpapa  and  grandmamma,  honeymoon  couples,  fathers 
and  mothers  with  young  children,  gay  bands  of  youths  and 
maidens — all  shoulder  the  rucksack  in  the  early  morn,  and 
march  briskly  onward  to  forgather  in  those  innumerable 
huts  with  which  the  flowery  alps  are  sprinkled,  there  to  eat 
a  modest  lunch  and  start  off  once  more. 

All  over  the  hillsides  run  the  club  paths,  along  which  the 
cheerful  pedestrians  stream,  and  one  has  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  these  bands  of  walkers  are  laying  in  stores  of 
health  and  strength  for  the  coming  worktime,  and  are  yet  not 
interfering  with  such  economic  use  of  the  land  as  can  be 
made  by  the  inhabitants.  Since,  further,  prices  in  the  huts 
and  elsewhere  are  kept  down  to  their  probable  means  as 
members  of  the  great  class  of  the  moderately  well-off,  we 
reaHse  that  they  are  not  demoraUsing  the  local  peasants  as 
the  shooting  tenants  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  demoraUse 
their  keepers  and  beaters  by  scattering  immoderate  largesse. 
In  the  Dolomites,  the  visitors  do  but  furnish  an  additional 
market  for  local  produce  without  causing  any  great  distur- 
bance of  the  local  economy.  It  is  difficult  to  avoid  a  feeUng 
of  admiration  for  the  countries  which  supply  this  ceaseless 
stream  of  stalwart  walkers,  and  a  pang  of  regret  that  the 
representative  of  the  Tyrolese  club  paths  in  the  Highlands  is 
to  be  found  in  those  often  well-made  but  largely  unused  roads 
which  run  far  up  into  the  hills,  but  are  almost  always  marked 
'  Strictly  private  :  trespassers  will  be  prosecuted.'     No  doubt 


O      ^     O     Ci 


—    —90 


•^   -  "S  o    b 


*f  -*i  -^ 


WHERE  ARE  THE  DOLOMITES  ?  209 

the  problems  concerned  are  complex,  but  it  seems  difficult 
to  doubt  that  it  is  better  that  in  mountainous  countries  the 
hills  should  be  freely  open  to  those  members  of  the  adjacent 
communities  whose  work  must  be  carried  on  in  smoky  towns, 
under  relatively  unhealthy  conditions,  rather  than  that, 
as  is  so  largely  the  case  in  Scotland,  the  townsfolk  should  be 
confined  in  a  narrow  valley,  while  the  glorious  uplands  and 
hills  on  either  side  of  them  should  be,  as  it  were,  fenced  ofi 
from  them,  and  protected  by  '  Trespassers  Boards,'  on  the 
ground  that  they  are  best  utilised  as  playing-fields  for  the 
governing  classes,  or  for  wealthy  Jews  and  Americans. 

But  this  is  a  digression.  Let  us  consider  the  first  point 
of  importance — where  are  the  Dolomites  ?  Fortunately 
they  are  well  defined.  Take  a  train  from  Innsbruck  over  the 
Brenner — an  afternoon  train  if  you  are  wise.  As  you  approach 
Botzen  the  rays  of  the  sinking  sun  will  strike  full  upon  the 
splendid  precipices  of  the  Schlern,  picking  out  the  gulhes 
and  outposts,  and  you  say  to  yourself — Behold  the  Dolomites  ! 
for  those  precipices  mark  the  western  edge  of  the  Dolomite 
region  (Plate  XIX.). 

Suppose,  instead  of  travelhng  all  the  way  from  Innsbruck 
to  Botzen,  we  had  turned  o£E  at  Franzensfeste  and  travelled 
along  the  Pustertal  to  Toblach.  Here  a  narrow  valley 
opens  southwards  which  gives  us  gHmpses  of  the  strange 
limestone  mountains,  and  the  walk  from  Toblach  to  Schluder- 
bach  will  afford  views  of  the  most  bizarre  perhaps  of  all  the 
Dolomites,  the  three  fangs  of  the  Drei  Zinnen.  Thus  the 
Pustertal,  in  which  runs  the  river  Rienz,  marks  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  Dolomite  region. 

Once  again,  had  we  been  coming  from  the  south,  e.g.  from 
Venice,  the  way  many  travellers  choose,  we  could  have 
ascended  the  valley  of  the  Piave,  for  this  river  marks  in  part 
the  eastern  boundary  of  the  Dolomites,  and  by  turning  off 
from  the  main  valley  near  Pieve  di  Cadore  we  could  reach 
Cortina,   the  great  centre   of   the  region.     Finally,   by  as- 

o 


210    HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

cending  a  certain  distance  up  the  Brenta  river,  which  flows 
through  the  Val  Sugana  and  forms  the  soutliern  boundary 
of  the  Dolomites,  and  turning  northwards  we  could  have 
reached  San  Martino,  another  great  tourist  centre.  Thus, 
to  sum  up,  the  Eisack  and  then  the  Etsch  (Adige),  the  Brenta, 
the  Piave,  the  Kienz  form,  broadly  speaking,  the  boundary 
valleys  of  the  Dolomites. 

So  far  we  have  defined  the  region  topographically,  by  its 
bounding  valleys,  but  it  can  also  be  defined  structurally. 
The  Dolomites  consist  of  a  basin-shaped  area  with  an  alter- 
nation of  calcareous  and  non-calcareous  rocks,  bounded  to 
the  north  by  the  Crystalhne  Alps  of  the  Hohe  Tauern  and 
Zillertal,  on  the  west  by  the  porphyry  plateau  of  Botzen, 
on  the  south  by  that  outlying  part  of  the  Crystalline 
Alps  which  forms  the  Cima  d'Asta,  and  on  the  east  by  the 
low  Calcareous  Alps  of  Venetia.  The  area  so  defined  has 
been  elevated  as  a  block,  with  but  httle  disturbance  of  the 
strata,  which  are  often  nearly  horizontal.  Thus  the  folding 
so  characteristic  of  the  Western  and  Central  Alps  is  practically 
absent.  As  we  shall  see  in  a  moment,  the  characteristic 
isolated  appearance  of  the  hills,  most  marked  in  the  western 
Dolomites,  is  the  result  of  the  rapid  alternation  within  the 
area  of  beds  of  different  characters.  But  before  proceeding 
to  this  subject  let  us  take  a  general  view  of  the  region,  to  note 
its  relation  to  the  surrounding  mountains. 

If  the  entrance  to  it  is  made  from  Botzen  a  day  should  be 
spent  there,  and  this  will  permit  both  of  a  brief  survey  of 
the  town,  including  probably  the  purchase  of  more  fruit 
than  is  good  for  the  tourist,  and  a  visit  to  Oberbotzen  by 
means  of  the  electric  railway.  This  httle  Une  passes  through 
the  orchards  and  vineyards  of  the  lower  slopes,  and  then 
through  woods  and  meadows  to  the  open  plateau  above, 
with  its  hotels  and  innumerable  summer  residences,  em- 
bowered in  roses.  The  view  from  here  (height  4000  feet)  is 
very   fine    (cf.    Plate   XIX.    which    shows    the   view   from 


GENERAL  SURVEY  OF  REGION  211 

Klobenstein,  the  next  village),  but  the  energetic  walker  will 
make  the  further  cUmb  on  foot  through  woods  and  over  long 
hot  slopes  to  the  little  inn  at  the  summit  of  the  Rittnerhorn 
(7420  feet),  crowded  daily  with  sightseers  in  the  summer 
months.  Here  there  is  a  wonderful  panorama  spread  out. 
Facing  westwards  one  has  a  great  circle  of  snow-clad  moun- 
tains in  front  of  one — a  circle  which  is  also  visible  from 
the  top  of  almost  any  of  the  Dolomite  mountains,  whose  con- 
stituent groups  are  named  by  the  guides  from  those  summits 
in  a  rapid  monotone,  which  one  soon  learns  to  associate  with 
a  brief  sojourn  on  a  windy  and  chilly  Gipjel,  where  space 
seems  at  a  minimum.  Hohe  Tauern,  Zillertaler,  Stubaitalcr, 
Oetztaler  Alps,  Ortler  group,  Brenta,  Adamello,  Presanella 
groups,  says  the  guide  on  such  occasions,  and  the  tourist 
repeats  devoutly,  Presanella  ;  let  us  go  down.  But  on  the 
Rittnerhorn,  where  a  guide  is  very  far  from  necessary,  and 
one  has  long  leisure  before  the  '  thrawn  '  Fraulein  comes  to 
the  execution  of  one's  order,  it  is  possible  to  name  the  peaks 
down  to  the  most  insignificant.  Having  first  done  our  duty 
by  these  giants  of  the  CrystalHne  Alps,  let  us  turn  eastward 
to  the  consideration  of  the  lower  but  nearer  Dolomites. 

We  are  standing  on  a  part  of  a  great  porphyry  plateau 
(see  Fig.  15)  which  extends  to  the  east  of  the  Adige,  on  both 
sides  of  the  Eisack.  This  is  an  ancient  lava  flow,  of  great 
extent,  dating  back  apparently  to  the  Permian  period, 
when  there  were  also  active  volcanoes  in  Ayrshire  in  Scotland. 
This  great  lava  flow  now  forms  an  undulating  surface,  of 
considerable  mean  elevation,  on  which  the  hills,  such  as  the 
Rittnerhorn,  are  mere  humps,  that  hill  being  '  rewarding,' 
as  the  guide  books  say,  only  for  its  view,  for  the  actual  climb 
is  merely  a  trudge  over  grassy  slopes,  with  httle  to  distract 
attention  from  the  heat  and  the  toil.  Into  this  undulat- 
ing plateau  narrow  but  deep  valleys'  have  been  cut ;  one, 
the  Eggental— (der  enge  Tal)  — is  called  narrow  par  excellence, 
but  all  have  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  the  same  character, 


212     HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

and  therefore  access  to  the  Dolomites  from  Botzen  is  relatively 
difficult.  The  Dolomites  themselves,  which  are  the  feature 
of  the  eastern  view,  rise  up  in  the  towers,  pinnacles  and 


Fin.  15.— Geological  Sketch-map  of  the  Dolomite  Region. 
( Modified  from  A'rebs.) 
The  Dolomite  region  proper  is  shown  by  vertical  shading,  while  the 
movintains  within  it  are  indicated  as  limestone  islands  rising  from  the 
surrounding  softer  beds.  The  bounding  river  vallej'S,  broadly  speak- 
ing, are  the  Etsch,  then  the  Eisack,  the  Rienz  (Pustertal),  Piave,  and 
Brenta  (Val  Sugana).  To  the  north  of  the  Pustertal,  not  shown  on  the 
map,  lie  the  Central  Crystalline  Alps,  but  an  isolated  part  of  these 
appears  to  the  south  of  the  Dolomite  region,  as  shown,  forming  the 
Cima  d'Asta.  The  western  boundary  is  the  porphyry  plateau  of 
Botzen.  shown  by  crosses.  To  the  east,  not  shown,  lie  the  Calcareous 
Alps  of  Venetia. 

massive  blocks,  on  which  so  many  epithets  have  been  lavished, 
from  the  eastern  edge  of  the  plateau,  their  edges  having  been 
cut  and  gashed  by  the  agents  of  erosion.    Rather  closer  obser- 


PASTURES  AND  PINNACLES  213 

vation  will  show,  even  from  this  distance,  that  they  spring, 
often  with  great  abruptness  (see  Plate  XX.),  from  undulating 
grassy  areas,  which  constitute  the  famous  alps  of  the  region. 
Although  the  whole  Dolomite  region,  as  we  have  seen,  has 
been  elevated  as  a  block,  yet  the  fact  that  the  constituent 
rocks  are  diverse,  and  react  differently  to  the  forces  of  erosion, 
gives  rise  on  the  one  hand  to  fantastic  peaks  (built  up  of 
calcareous  beds)  and  on  the  other  to  pastures.  The  pastures 
are  partly  due  to  the  outcrop  of  non-calcareous  sedimentary 
beds,  and  partly  to  that  of  beds  of  tuff  (consohdated  volcanic 
ash)  and  similar  types  of  rock,  the  result  of  submarine  volcanic 
eruptions  at  the  time  when  the  calcareous  beds  were  being 
laid  down. 

Before  we  leave  the  summit  of  the  grassy  knoll  which  has 
supphed  us  with  these  facts,  let  us  consider  one  other  question 
— how  are  we  to  reach  the  Dolomites  from  the  vicinity  of 
Botzen  ?  As  we  have  seen,  they  seem  to  break  off  sharp  at 
the  eastern  edge  of  the  porphyry  plateau,  and  that  plateau 
is  gashed  by  narrow  valleys.  These  valleys  afford  the  most 
obvious,  though  not  the  easiest  access  to  the  region.  That 
most  frequently  chosen  is  perhaps  the  Eggental,  which  leads 
by  a  picturesque  and  steep  route  to  the  Karersee,  close  to 
the  wonderful  Rosengarten  group.  From  here  the  Fassatal 
is  easily  reached.  Another  route,  very  picturesque  near  its 
head,  leads  up  the  Tiersertal,  the  road  here  ending  at  Weiss- 
lahnbad,  whence  some  fine  paths  enable  the  active  traveller 
to  penetrate  into  and  cross  through  the  heart  of  the  western 
Dolomites. 

Much  easier  but  longer  is  the  road  which  descends  beside 
the  Adige  to  Auer,  and  then  crosses  a  low  watershed  to  reach 
the  long  Avisio  valley,  which,  under  several  names,  runs  fur 
up  into  the  heart  of  the  Dolomites,  to  end  as  the  Fassatal. 
This  route  forms  a  part  of  the  great  Dolomite  road  from 
Botzen  to  Cortina,  and  is  the  only  one  open  to  motor-car 
traffic.     Finally,  further  to  the  north,  the  Grodnertal,  on  th« 


214     HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

margin  of  the  Dolomites,  permits  of  fairly  easy  access  to  the 
foot  of  the  Langkofel,  which  we  may  regard  as  the  centre 
of  the  western  Dolomites. 

By  whatever  route  we  choose  we  may  expect  to  find  our- 
selves ultimately  somewhere  near  the  base  of  the  Langkofel, 
and  thus  for  the  first  time  surrounded  by  Dolomites,  instead 
of  merely  viewing  them  from  the  outer  side,  as  we  did  from 
the  Kittnerhorn.  The  first  feature  which  strikes  us,  and  that 
which  has  a  considerable  bearing  upon  the  popularity  of  the 
region  with  walkers,  is,  if  one  may  put  the  point  without 
paradox,  the  vicinity  of  the  mountains  to  the  valleys.  The 
members  of  a  certain  school  of  British  chmbers  are  accus- 
tomed to  speak  of  the  Dolomites  with  great  contempt,  as 
fit  only  for  the  aged  and  infirm — as  mountains  which  one 
can  stroll  up  between  breakfast  and  lunch.  The  statement, 
despite  its  obvious  exaggeration  (for  the  Dolomites  contain 
some  excessively  difiicult  peaks,  long  held  to  be  impossible), 
has  some  basis  of  truth  in  it.  Thus  the  distances  are  cer- 
tainly short,  the  change  in  the  character  of  the  scenery,  as 
compared  with  the  Central  Alps,  very  rapid,  and  yet,  owing 
to  their  great  steepness,  the  mountains  are  highly  impressive. 
In  a  very  short  space  of  time  one  may  rise  from  a  flower- 
bespangled  alp  to  a  crag  absolutely  devoid  of  vegetation. 
We  have  already  stated  that  this  is  due  to  the  alternation 
of  calcareous  beds  with  non-calcareous  ones  ;  let  us,  however, 
clear  away  a  few  misconceptions  in  regard  to  these  before 
elaborating  the  point. 

Dolomite  (from  Dolomieu,  a  French  geologist)  is  the  name 
applied  to  a  rock  which,  instead  of  consisting  mainly  of 
carbonate  of  lime  like  an  ordinary  limestone,  contains  also 
carbonate  of  magnesium.  It  is  harder  than  ordinary  lime- 
stone, does  not  efiervesce  with  cold  acid,  and  has  some  other 
characters  which  need  not  detain  us.  Not  all  the  hmestones 
of  the  Dolomites  consist  of  '  dolomite  ' ;  the  region  is  rather 
one  in  which  dolomite  occurs  than  one  in  which  all  hmestones 


ORIGIN  OF  DOLOMITE  215 

appear  in  the  dolomitic  form.  Further,  it  seems  fairly  clear 
that  the  dolomitisation  was  a  chemical  change  which  took 
place  after  the  formation  of  the  limestone  ;  the  difference 
between  the  two  is  not  due  to  a  difference  of  origin,  but  to 
the  absence  in  one  case  of  a  subsequent  change  which  took 
place  in  the  other. 

Now  it  is  possible  that  some  of  those  isolated  mountain 
blocks  which  stand  up  sheer  from  the  surrounding  alps 
represent  the  remnants  of  coral  reefs,  built  up  in  compara- 
tively shallow  water  off  the  shore  of  an  old  land  mass  which 
lay  to  the  north.  On  the  floor  of  the  shallow  sea  volcanic 
eruptions  now  and  again  broke  out,  kilUng  the  corals  and 
other  hme-secreting  organisms,  and  leading  to  the  deposition 
of  sheets  of  fine  volcanic  mud.  Elsewhere  also  streams 
entered  the  shallow  sea  and  laid  down  deposits  of  land-derived 
mud  and  sand,  which  similarly  rendered  particular  parts  of 
the  sea  unsuitable  for  animal  life.  The  consequence  is  that 
the  deposits  change  greatly  in  character  over  short  distances, 
and  when,  long  ages  afterwards,  the  old  sea  bottom  was 
raised  to  the  surface,  the  forces  of  erosion  acted  in  a  selective 
fashion,  wearing  away  the  softer  non-calcareous  sedimentary 
beds  and  the  volcanic  tuffs,  and  acting  far  less  rapidly  on  the 
calcareous  beds.  Thus,  according  to  one  view,  some  of  the 
existing  mountains  represent  the  remains  of  coral  reefs, 
dissected  out  by  wind  and  weather  from  the  beds  in  which 
they  were  once  buried. 

According  to  another  view,  that  phenomenon  of  over- 
thrusting  which  certainly  occurred  in  other  parts  of  the 
Alps  also  occurred  here,  and  the  calcareous  beds  represent, 
not  rocks  formed  in  the  position  where  they  occur,  but 
blocks  which  have  been  shoved  over  the  underlying  beds, 
and  have  thus  come  from  a  distance.  The  discussions 
which  have  arisen  over  this  question  do  not  concern  us  here, 
but  it  is  well  to  have  a  httle  clearness  on  the  coral  reef  affair. 
No  scientific  view  holds  that  the  present  form  of  any  Dolo- 


216     HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

Eoite  mountain  is  directly  due  to  its  origin  as  a  reef  on  the 
sea-floor,  a  position  which  finds  extreme  statement  in  not  a 
few  popular  books  on  the  region.  Further,  at  most  only 
some  of  the  mountains  are  regarded  as  of  '  reef  '  origin,  these 
lying  chiefly  to  the  west. 

That  traveller  is  fortunate  who,  having  descended  from 
the  pubUc  motor  at  the  Falzarego  Pass  to  see  the  view,  does 
not  find  among  the  group  of  his  fellow-passengers  a  clergyman, 
blue  with  cold  but  didactic  to  the  death,  and  convinced  that 
duty  calls  him  to  tell  all  who  will  listen  of  the  marvellous 
work  of  the  industrious  '  coral  insect,'  who,  cell  by  cell,  built 
up  these  towering  mountains  from  the  deep  sea-floor.  The 
'  coral  insect '  is  as  mythical  as  the  unicorn,  and  its  survival 
in  literature  is  due  only  to  its  usefulness  to  journahst,  politician 
and  parson.  Strive,  therefore,  to  get  rid  of  your  early  con- 
viction that  it  not  only  hves  but  that  it  once  sat  down  on  the 
floor  of  an  azure  sea,  in  order  to  construct  the  Cinque  Torri 
as  a  means  of  furnishing  a  liveUhood  to  these  of  the  peasants 
of  the  Cortina  valley  who  are  sure-footed  and  steady  of 
head,  and  to  impart  a  teUing  illustration  to  sermon  or  article. 

Now  let  us  note  the  actual  composition  of  the  beds  of  which 
the  Dolomites  are  composed,  for  this  has  a  direct  bearing 
upon  the  appearance  of  the  mountains.  Reducing  the 
succession  of  beds  to  its  simplest  form,  we  may  say  that  we 
find  at  the  base  tuffs,  shales,  marls,  etc.,  with  the  volcanic 
element  largely  predominating  to  the  west  and  diminishing 
to  the  east. 

Above  this  lies  the  Schlern  dolomite,  a  massive  dolomitic 
limestone  which  is  unstratified  {i.e.  shows  no  or  very  few 
bedding  fines),  and  is  apparently  a  reef  formation  (but  see 
p.  215).  In  any  case  the  point  of  importance  is  that  it  does 
not  form  a  continuous  layer,  but  occurs  in  great  blocks, 
the  hmestone  masses  passing  horizontally  into  detrital 
beds.     It  is  much  thicker  to  the  west  than  to  the  east. 

Above  this  lies  a  layer  of  shales  and  marls  forming  what 


GEOLOGY  AND  SCENERY  217 

are  known  as  the  Raibl  beds,  which  weather  rapidly  to  form 
extensive  screes.  Above  the  Raibl  beds,  and  far  more 
prominent  to  the  east  than  to  the  west,  lies  what  is  known 
as  the  Dachstein  limestone,  which  is  sometimes,  but  not 
always,  dolomitic.  In  contrast  to  the  Schlern  dolomite 
this  hmestone  is  stratified,  that  is,  there  are  well-marked 
bedding  hnes,  and  in  consequence  it  weathers  to  form  straight- 
edged  precipices,  and  tends  to  give  rise  to  broad  plateau-hke 
summits,  not  towers  and  needles  Uke  the  Schlern  dolomite. 
Further,  instead  of  occurring  in  blocks  of  limited  extension, 
like  the  Schlern  dolomite,  it  once  formed  a  continuous  sheet, 
and  thus  the  mountains  in  the  regions  where  it  predominates 
are  less  isolated  than  in  those  where  the  Schlern  dolomite 
prevails. 

The  whole  area,  be  it  remembered,  has  apparently  been 
elevated  en  bloc,  but  the  elevation  has  been  greater  to  the 
west  than  to  the  east,  or  else  the  strata  had  an  original  tilt 
in  this  direction.  To  the  west  therefore  the  Schlern  dolomite 
predominates,  with  at  best  a  thin  layer  of  Dachstein  hme- 
stone on  its  summit.  To  the  east  the  Dachstein  predominates, 
and  we  have  a  resulting  well-marked  contrast  between  the 
difierent  types  of  Dolomites. 

If  this  account  seems  needlessly  geological,  let  us  take  a  few 
typical  peaks  to  show  what  Hght  it  casts  upon  their  structure 
and  form.  We  may  begin  with  the  Schlern  (Plate  XIX. ),  which 
is  a  very  disappointing  or  a  very  attractive  mountain  accord- 
ing to  one's  standpoint.  Seen  from  near  Botzen,  as  already 
noted,  it  displays  splendid  precipices  and  towers,  and  there 
are  several  ways  up  it  which  ofier  at  least  minor  excitements. 
If  the  tourist  adopt  one  of  these  routes,  he  will  eventually 
emerge  upon  a  broad  sloping  plateau,  grass-grown,  rich  in 
flowers,  including  some  wonderful  primulas,  but  as  a  moun- 
tain summit  lacking  in  incident.  On  that  wide  plateau  he 
will  find  the  extensive  Schlernhauser,  and  within  them  the 
motley  crowd  whose  presence  is  an  indication   that  some 


218    HILLS  AND  V.ALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

routes  up  present  no  notable  difficulties.  When  he  has 
strolled  froii  i  the  huts  to  the  summit,  however,  he  will  obtain 
fine  views  cf  those  precipices  which  first  drew  his  attention 
to  the  mou:itain,  and  will  note  that  the  summit  rocks  are 
bare  stratified  Dachstein  beds,  as  compared  ahke  with  the 
unstratified  Schlern  dolomite  which  forms  the  western 
precipices  seen  on  Plate  XIX.,  and  the  grass-covered  tufis 
which  form  the  slopes  towards  the  Seiser  alp.  Further,  near 
the  summit  the  Raibl  beds  appear  in  their  usual  position 
below  the  Dachstein,  though  they  do  not  form  so  obvious  a 
structural  feature  as  in  the  case  of  the  Sella  group  (see  below). 
Thus,  to  sum  up,  the  Schlern  owes  its  flat  top  to  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Dachstein  beds  at  the  summit,  its  precipices  on 
the  west  to  the  unstratified  Schlern  dolomite,  its  slope  to- 
wards the  surrounding  alps  on  the  other  sides  to  the  way 
in  which  the  reef  of  which  it  is  composed  thins  out,  to- 
wards the  regions  where  copious  deposition  of  volcanic  beds 
took  place. 

Now  contrast  the  Langkofel  group,  in  some  ways  the  most 
beautiful  of  the  Dolomites.  Here,  except  for  the  Plattkofel, 
which  from  one  side  presents  no  great  difficulty  (though  it 
is  not  a  pure  tourist's  mountain  like  the  Schlern),  all  the 
peaks  are  difficult,  the  Fiinffingerspitze  very  difficult.  All 
are  composed  of  the  unstratified  Schlern  dolomite  and  rise 
like  peaked  and  pirmacled  icebergs  from  the  smooth  green 
pastures  around.  Only  on  the  extreme  summit  of  the  higher 
peaks,  the  Langkofel  and  Grohmann  Spitze,  is  there  a  httle 
cap  of  Raibl  beds,  which  have  no  noticeable  effect  on  the 
form  of  the  mountains. 

We  may  add  that  those  who  do  not  wish  to  chmb  may 
obtain  a  good  idea  of  the  constituent  rocks  of  the  group  by 
ascending,  preferably  from  the  south,  to  the  Langkofeljoch, 
crossing  this  pass  to  the  Langkofel  Hiitte,  and  then  descend- 
ing to  the  Grodnertal  by  the  beautiful  Confinboden  with  its 
copious  springs  and  lakelets.     Starting  from  the  Sellajoch, 


THE  SELLA  GROUP  219 

the  ascent  is  made  over  sedimentary  beds,  decomposed  to 
form  extensive  screes  to  the  jaws  of  the  pass,  where  we 
penetrate  the  dolomitic  masses,  and  then  descend  to  volcanic 
tuffs,  which  floor  the  alps  of  the  Gioden  valley. 

Now  let  us  turn  to  the  Sella  group  (sec  Frontispiece  and 
Plate  XX.),  so  imposing  from  almost  any  point  of  view.  Its 
summit  forms  a  plateau,  above  which  the  individual  peaks 
do  not  project  greatly,  but  the  special  feature,  and  one 
which  adds  greatly  to  the  scenic  effect,  is  the  fact  that  the 
bounding  precipices  of  the  plateau  are  interrupted,  practically 
round  the  whole  area  of  the  massif,  by  a  wide  shelf.  This 
shelf,  by  giving  the  eye  something  whereby  to  measure 
distances,  adds  much  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  group. 
Above  it  the  Hmestones  are  stratified,  hence  their  tabular 
appearance ;  below  they  are  unstratified  and  break  at  their 
edges  into  towers  and  pinnacles.  In  other  words,  the  upper 
beds  are  made  of  Dachstein  dolomite,  the  shelf  is  due  to 
the  easily-weathered  Raibl  beds,  and  the  lower  precipices, 
the  base  as  it  were  of  the  great  earth  block,  are  built  up  of 
Schlern  dolomite. 

Those  with  some  taste  for  rock-climbing  can  form  an 
admii-able  picture  of  the  structure  of  the  group  by  starting 
from  the  Sellajoch,  and,  after  crossing  the  grassy  alp,  ascend- 
ing by  means  of  the  Possneckerweg  with  its  iron  steps  and 
wire  ropes  the  sheer  cliff  of  the  Schlern  dolomite.  Just 
about  the  time  when  the  occupation  of  chnging  hke  a  fly  to 
the  surface  of  a  precipice  begins  to  pall,  one  emerges  upon  a 
shelving  platform,  where  drinks  are  the  order  of  the  day. 
After  a  rest  and  the  replacement  of  kletterschuhe  by  boots 
one  continues  over  the  platform,  with  no  climbing  and  but 
little  change  of  level — this  is  the  shelf  made  by  the  Raibl 
beds.  After  a  time  a  fresh  series  of  precipices  rise  above  the 
jaded  chmber.  These,  however,  are  not  high,  and  they  are 
easily  surmounted,  partly  because  of  the  stratification.  Soon 
one  emerges  upon  the  snow-clad  summit  level  of  the  massif, 


220    HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

with  a  gorgeous  view  around,  and  a  great  haK-circle  of  peaks 
stretching  before  one,  which  show  but  httle  difierence  of  height. 
Half-circle  is  perhaps  scarcely  descriptive,  for  the  circle 
would  be  complete  were  it  not  that  the  deep  valley  called 
Val  Lasties  has,  as  it  were,  cut  down  the  mountain  wall  at 
one  place,  and  opened  a  deep  gash  in  the  centre  of  the  circle, 
so  that  one  may  compare  the  group  to  a  gigantic  saucer  with 
a  broad  wedge-shaped  piece  knocked  out  of  it.  Owing  to 
the  depth  of  the  valley  we  must  keep  along  the  rim  of  the 
saucer  in  order  to  reach  the  other  side  of  the  group  till,  oppo- 
site our  point  of  entrance,  we  come  to  the  Boespitze,  the 
highest  peak  of  the  massif. 

This  journey  will  confirm  in  us  the  view  that  the  presence 
of  a  surface  covering  of  Dachstein  rock  in  a  Dolomite  massif 
tends  to  increase  the  amount  of  surface  at  summit  level, 
i.e.  to  produce  plateau-shaped  mountains.  As  this  formation 
predominates  generally  to  the  east,  we  have  a  contrast  between 
the  fantastic  peaks,  e.g.  the  Rosengarten  and  Langkofel 
groups,  of  the  west,  and  the  broader  summits  of  Tofana, 
Sorapis,  Cristallo,  and  so  forth,  in  the  east. 

But  this  is  not  quite  the  whole  story,  as  a  couple  of  examples 
will  show.  Thus  the  Marmolata,  which  has  a  very  steep 
southern  wall,  and  a  gently  inchned  northern  one,  is  built 
up  of  Schlern  dolomite,  not,  as  one  might  suppose  from  its 
shape,  of  Dachstein  beds.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Drei  Zinnen, 
the  curious  Cinque  Torri,  the  fine  peak  of  Croda  da  Lago,  the 
Becco  di  Mezzodi,  and  so  forth,  despite  their  peaked  and 
pointed  appearance,  are  built  of  Dachstein  hmestones  and 
dolomites,  as  one  may  learn  from  their  marked  strati- 
fication. But  here,  in  contrast  to  the  west,  where  the  peaks 
are  perhaps  isolated  coral  reefs,  the  pointed  appearance  is 
due  to  the  dissection  of  a  once  continuous  bed  of  hmestone. 

The  Drei  Zinnen,  those  blunt  pyramids  rising  from  a 
base  of  weathered  rock,  cannot  fail  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  tourist,  who  even  in  a  photograph  can  note  their 


THE  CHARMS  OF  THE  REGION  221 

obvious  stratification.  The  mass  of  scree  from  which  they 
rise  is  due  to  the  weathering  of  Raibl  beds,  so  that  the  peaks 
may  be  said  to  correspond  to  the  top  of  the  Sella  plateau, 
no  underlying  base  of  Schlern  dolomite  being  visible  here. 

We  add  at  the  end  of  this  chapter  some  notes  on  books, 
popular  and  detailed,  which  will  enable  the  reader  to  pursue 
his  studies  of  the  Dolomites  further.  We  have  not  here 
dwelt  on  the  wonderful  colouring  of  the  region,  on  the  contrast 
between  the  bare  walls  of  rock  above  and  the  meadow  and 
forest  land  below,  on  that  between  their  glowing  tints  in 
the  sunset  light  and  the  dead  white  snow  which  covers  the 
summit  plateaux  and  the  shelves  and  ridges,  on  the  stains  and 
markings  imprinted  by  the  weather  on  every  precipice,  here 
rusty  and  ominous,  there  blackened  as  though  by  smoke. 
All  these  points  have  been  already  dwelt  upon  in  many 
popular  works.  The  point  we  would  emphasise  is  that  here, 
far  more  than  in  the  Central  Alps,  access  to  the  secrets  of 
the  mountain  is  easy,  and  the  warm  deep  valleys  invite  when 
the  mountain  peaks  are  obstinately  veiled  in  mist.  Further, 
few  regions  are  so  well  calculated  to  arouse  an  interest  in 
geology,  and  few  ofTer  so  much  scope  for  collecting,  whether 
the  interest  lie  in  fossils,  or  in  rocks  and  minerals.  Finally, 
unless  tower  and  ridge  are  to  be  assailed  with  the  help  of 
guide,  one  has  here  a  delightful  sense  of  freedom  in  wander- 
ing over  the  flowery  meadows  ;  dipping  down  the  steep 
gulhes  where  the  dry  torrent  bed  affords  so  convenient  an 
access  that  ladders  are  actually  fastened  from  block  to  block 
in  what  must  be  the  fairway  of  the  stream  in  flood-time  ; 
turning  up  promptly  for  meals  at  the  huts  to  find  and  greet 
the  chance  acquaintances  of  yesterday  ;  daring  greatly  one 
day,  not  without  secret  trembling,  and  another  spending  long 
hours  tossing  pebbles  into  the  brook.  If  one  avoids  the 
larger  resorts  and  the  big  hotels  it  is  all  so  simple,  so  homely, 
and  if  a  period  of  the  simple  hfe  threaten  to  produce  boredom 
or  self-righteousness — its  two  great  dangers — it  is  so  easy 


222    HILLS  AND  VALLEYS  IN  THE  DOLOMITES 

to  make  a  sudden  raid  upon  civilisation,  to  squander  the 
savings  of  an  economical  week  in  one  glorious  hour  of  crowded 
life — to  the  accompaniment  of  an  orchestra  ('  all  prices  raised 
during  the  concert ').  A  charming  region,  well-suited  to 
those  of  simple  tastes  and  adaptabihty  of  temperament ! 

References.  The  more  general  books  mentioned  at  the  end  of 
the  preceding  chapter  discuss  the  Dolomites  as  well  as  the  other  parts 
of  the  Alps  (see  especially  Krebs'  book,  and  Geikie's  Mountains). 
Gilbert  and  Churchill's  book,  The  Dolomite  Mountains,  1864,  has 
been  already  mentioned ;  Miss  Betham  Edwards'  Untrodden  Peaks, 
and  Unfrequented  Valleys  may  also  be  consulted.  There  are  a  con- 
siderable number  of  recent  EngUsh  books,  mostly  deahng  rather  with 
history  and  legend  than  with  geography  or  geology.  Hamer's  Dolo- 
mites may  be  named  among  these  as  giving  a  simple  and  unpretentious 
description  of  the  usual  routes.  Climbing  books  on  the  region  are 
numerous;  two  may  be  speciallj''  mentioned.  Sanger  Da  vies'  Dolo- 
mite Strongholds,  second  edition,  1896 — an  entertaining  book  with  re- 
markable sketches  by  the  author,  and  blood-curdling  accounts  of 
climbs,  most  of  which  now  rank  as  very  ordinary  performances  well 
within  the  capacity  of  very  moderate  climbers — is  one  of  these.  It  is 
a  good  book  to  lend  to  your  unsophisticated  friends  after  a  climbing 
holiday  in  the  region.  The  other  book  referred  to  is  The  Climbs  of 
Normun-Neruda,  edited  by  May  Norman-Nenida,  a  morbid  and  depress- 
ing piece  of  work,  but  one  which  impresses  certain  of  the  features  of 
the  mountains  upon  the  mind. 

Mrs.  Ogilvie-Gordon's  views  as  to  the  occurrence  of  overthrusting 
in  The  Dolomites,  to  which  allusion  was  made  on  p.  215,  are  set  forth  in 
a  series  of  scientific  papers,  presented  to  different  learned  societies. 
Two  of  these  may  be  specially  mentioned,  '  The  Geological  Structure 
of  Monzoni  and  Fassa,'  Trans.  Edin.  Geological  Society,  special 
part,  1902-3,  and  '  The  Thrust-masses  in  the  Western  District  of  the 
Dolomites,'  Do.,  1909-10.  A  good  general  description  of  Tyrol  is  given  in 
Tirol,  by  Max  Haushofer,  in  a  series  called  Land  und  Leute,  Monographien 
zur  Erdkunde,  1889.  This  book  has  some  fine  illustrations.  Finally, 
the  annual  volumes  of  the  Zeitschrift  des  Deutschen  u.  Oesterreichischen 
Alpenvereins  should  be  consulted.  They  contain,  in  addition  to 
articles  both  upon  chmbing  and  upon  scientific  topics,  often  beautiful 
Uustrations  and  fine  maps. 


CHAPTER  XVll 

NAPLES    AND   VESUVIUS  :     A   STUDY   IN   VOLCANIC 
ACTION 

'  Consider  farther  how  the  nether  fires  are  daily  and  nightly  forging, 
in  the  great  central  furnaces,  new  granite  mountains,  even  out  of  that 
old  worn  rubbish  ;  and  new  plains  are  spreading  themselves  forth  in 
the  deep  sea,  bearing  forests  now  only  of  tangled  alga2,  but  destined 
to  wave  with  yellow  corn.' 

We  have  discussed  in  some  detail  the  origin  and  characters 
of  those  mighty  mountain  ranges  which,  with  their  intervening 
valleys,  furrow  the  surface  of  Europe,  and  shall  describe 
later  one  example  of  those  regions  of  worn-down  stumps 
which  are  all  that  remain  of  the  lofty  chains  of  an  earher 
time — a  time  before  yet  the  earth  was  ready  to  serve  as  the 
home  of  land  animal  or  the  higher  land  plants,  aeons  and 
aeons  before  man  appeared.  Let  us  now  turn  from  the  all 
but  imperceptible  movements  which  built  the  Alps  to  another 
phenomenon,  intermittently  observable  at  different  parts 
of  the  earth,  which  has  impressed  man's  imagination  in  a 
fashion  out  of  proportion  to  its  real  significance. 

So  slow  is  the  process  of  mountain  building  in  relation  to 
the  time  during  which  man  has  had  the  intelligence  to  observe, 
that  the  hills  have  been  for  him  the  unchanging  and  the 
everlasting,  until,  only  as  it  were  yesterday,  he  has  been 
able  to  decipher  some  part  of  their  complex  hieroglyphics, 
to  deduce  from  an  accumulated  mass  of  apparently  unimpor- 
tant details  the  fact  of  their  changeableness  and  instability. 
Ob  the  other  hand,  volcanic  action — in  essence  but  a  sign 


224  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

and  a  symbol,  an  effect  of  the  great  forces  which  build  moun- 
tains— has  been  to  him  the  expression,  the  true  reahty  of 
the  powers  outside  himself.  Nor  has  this  point  of  view  been 
wholly  without  justification.  The  periodic  outbursts  of  the 
nether  fires,  so  trifling  to  the  geologist  with  all  time  for  his 
province,  and  the  battle-ground  of  warring  species  for  his 
field  of  study,  have  often  been  for  the  ordinary  human  being 
catastrophes  whose  immensity  is  beyond  the  range  of  his 
powers  of  expression. 

Myriads  of  men  and  women  have  lived  and  died  since  a  mere 
handful  of  them  were  overwhelmed  in  that  ignoble  city  on 
the  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Naples  ;  but  while  the  earthquakes, 
the  famines,  the  pestilences  which  between  then  and  now 
have  wiped  out  before  their  time  untold  numbers  of  human 
beings  give  most  of  us  but  Httle  concern,  few  can  wander 
through  the  trivialities,  the  improprieties,  the  occasional 
beauties  of  Pompeii  without  emotion.  Even  the  crouching 
dog  whose  image  at  the  moment  of  death  is  to  be  seen  beside 
.  those  of  man  and  maid  gains  an  unexpected  pathos  from  its 
surroundings.  Perhaps  we  can  always  seize  a  richer  joy  in 
/  life  from  the  thought  that  at  any  moment  Mother  Earth 
/  may  repent  herself  of  her  prodigal  giving,  may  destroy  with 
the  same  recklessness  with  which  she  creates.  Or  is  it  only 
the  fact  that  the  city  by  the  sea  and  some  of  its  one-time 
inhabitants  have,  as  it  were,  risen  from  the  dead  to  enduring 
fife  which  thrills  us  ?  Is  it  the  perception  that  their  apparent 
destruction  was  in  essence  but  a  becoming  imperishable 
which  satisfies  our  human  craving  for  permanence  ?  In  any 
case,  while  to  appreciate  the  significance  of  the  Alps  requires 
some  imagination,  to  enjoy  Naples  and  Vesuvius  we  need 
only  our  common  humanity. 

But  the  very  breadth  of  their  appeal  means  that  they  have 
been  described  times  without  number,  and  we  shall  not 
therefore  attempt  to  add  another  to  the  many  existing 
descriptions — scientific,    eloquent    or    bombastic.     We   shall 


THE  APENNINES  225 

only  strive  to  point  out  some  details  which  might  escape 
the  ordinary  tourist,  in  order  to  quicken  expectation,  to  fill 
up  possible  blanks  in  the  picture,  whose  background  is  the 
clear  air,  the  blue  sky,  the  limestone  clifEs,  the  groves  of 
oranges  and  lemons,  the  dark  pines. 

Let  us  consider  first  the  elements  of  the  landscape.  In  the 
vicinity  of  Naples,  as  in  Italy  in  general,  the  land  forms  are 
dominated  by  the  existence  of  the  Apennines,  which  run 
through  the  whole  continent,  in  a  general  north-west  to  south- 
east direction.  As  we  have  already  seen,  the  Apennines  are 
a  continuation  of  the  earth  folds  which  built  the  Alps,  though 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Naples,  as  in  parts  of  the  Eastern 
Alps,  it  is  faulting  and  local  elevation  of  blocks  of  land  which 
give  rise  to  the  prominent  features  rather  than  actual  folding. 

We  saw  in  the  case  of  the  Alps  that  an  essential  factor  in 
their  formation  was  the  presence  of  rigid  earth  blocks  in 
front  of  the  rising  folds,  against  which  these  folds  as  it  were 
broke.  A  similar  rigid  foreland  seems  to  have  existed  in 
the  case  of  the  Apennines,  but  it  is  now  largely  submerged 
beneath  the  sea.  On  the  coast  of  Tuscany,  in  Corsica, 
Sardinia,  in  north-eastern  Sicily  and  parts  of  Calabria,  there 
appear  old  rocks  which  are  believed  to  be  remnants  of  an  old 
Tyrrhenian  continent,  the  foreland  which  once  blocked  the 
rising  Apennines.  In  association  with  the  earth  movements, 
during  which  this  continent  sank  beneath  the  sea,  there 
broke  out  here,  as  under  similar  circumstances  elsewhere, 
a  chain  of  volcanoes,  of  which,  on  the  mainland,  Vesuvius 
is  the  most  southern  and  the  only  one  still  active.  With  the 
same  earth  movements,  and  the  consequent  instability  of 
the  Tyrrhenian  Sea,  we  have  to  associate  the  earthquakes 
which  so  frequently  devastate  Sicily  and  Calabria. 

The  result  of  the  activity  of  the  mainland  volcanoes  has 
been  the  production,  between  the  Apennines  and  the  Tyrr- 
henian Sea,  of  a  broad  belt  of  volcanic  rocks,  of  varying 
characters  and  fertihty.    For  example,  while  near  Naples 

P 


226  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

it  is  to  the  volcanic  beds  that  the  Campania  owes  its  great 
natural  wealth  and  dense  population ;  on  the  other  hand, 
the  tuffs  from  the  extinct  volcanoes  of  the  Alban  Hills, 
which  floor  the  Campagna  near  Rome,  make  that  broad  plain 
a  swamp  or  almost  a  desert  according  to  the  season,  and 
produce  the  curious  anomaly  of  an  almost  uninhabited  region 
close  to  a  great  town. 

With  these  broad  facts  in  mind  let  us  turn  to  the  details 
of  the  structure  of  the  region  round  Naples.  We  have 
spoken  of  the  general  direction  of  the  Apennines,  but  we 
must  note  that  just  to  the  south  of  Naples  a  long  ridge  runs 
out  seawards  at  right  angles  to  the  main  chain,  and  forms  the 
peninsula  of  Sorrento,  with  the  island  of  Capri  at  its  extremity. 
The  promontory  which  constitutes  the  other  arm  of  the 
beautiful  bay,  prolonged  into  the  islands  of  Procida  and 
Ischia  is,  on  the  contrary,  of  volcanic  origin,  this  promontory 
being  the  famous  Phlegrsean  or  Burning  Fields,  so-called 
in  contrast  to  the  smooth  and  fertile  plains  of  the  Campania 
FeUce.  On  these  plains,  between  the  two  arms  of  the  bay, 
rises  the  great  steep-sided  mountain  of  Vesuvius,  whose 
internal  fires  are  still  burning.  The  Campania  FeUce  is 
floored  by  volcanic  beds  which  were  probably  thrown  out  by 
submarine  volcanoes,  and  even  Vesuvius  itself  seems  to  have 
been  built  up  from  the  sea-floor. 

We  see  then  that  the  landscape  round  Naples  is  of  exceed- 
ingly diverse  origin,  and  its  world-famed  beauty,  in  so  far  as 
it  does  not  rest  on  the  colours  of  sea  and  sky,  of  orange  grove 
and  orchard,  is  due  to  the  variety  of  form  and  structure.  The 
distance  from  arm  to  arm  of  the  bay  is  some  twenty  miles, 
and  no  contrast  could  be  greater  than  that  between  the 
white  limestone  chffs  (Plate  XXL)  and  fault  scarps  of 
Sorrento  and  Capri,  and  the  strange  craters  and  mounds  of 
the  Phlegreean  fields  ;  between  the  fertile  slopes  of  the  flanks 
of  Vesuvius  and  the  bare  ash  cone  (Plate  XXII.)  and  slaggy, 
absolutely  barren,  lava  streams  in  its  upper  region.     There 


I'LA'I'K  XXI 


l^iiin-btune  locks  utt'  the  bliuie  of  C'apii. 


THE  CONE  OF  VESUVIUS  227 

can  be  few  localities  also  which  offer  within  so  short  a  radius 
so  great  a  variety  of  excursions,  from  the  grottoes,  natural 
arches,  perpendicular  cliffs  and  so  forth  of  a  limestone  region, 
to  volcanoes  in  all  stages  of  diminishing  activity. 

If,  before  proceeding  further,  one  may  offer  a  word  of 
practical  advice  to  the  tourist,  it  would  be,  if  time  is  available, 
not  to  be  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  ascend  Vesuvius.  The 
excursion,  unless  the  mountain  happens  to  be  particularly 
active,  is  perhaps  always  something  of  a  disappointment  to 
those  to  whom  it  affords  an  introduction  to  volcanic 
phenomena,  and  its  significance  is  best  appreciated  if  the 
-£hlegr£Ban  Fields  have  been  visited  first.  Further,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that,  especially  on  a  fine  day,  a  somewhat 
detailed  acquaintance  with  the  surroundings  increases  the 
appreciation  of  the  view  from  the  summit.  It  is  a  mistake 
to  make  the  ascent  before  the  general  He  of  the  land  is  under- 
stood, at  least  unless  a  second  ascent  is  to  be  made  later. 

Further,  the  tourist,  especially  such  as  are  acquainted 
with  long-extinct  volcanic  vents  like  those  of  Scotland, 
should  be  prepared  to  find  the  mountain  excessively  '  untidy.' 
Indeed  particular  persons  have  been  known  to  assert  that  it 
was  a  merciful  providence  which  placed  Vesuvius  in  the 
vicinity  of  a  city  like  Naples,  for  an  energetic  northern 
municipahty  would  at  once  have  advertised  for  tenders  for 
the  shovelling  of  the  disfiguring  mass  of  cinders  which  forms 
the  summit-cone  into  the  sea  !  Only  a  people  which  can 
contemplate  with  perfect  equanimity  heaps  of  rotten  vegetables 
before  its  front  doors  could  accept  with  composure  that  great 
mass  of  sHpping,  shding  rubbish  which  here  receives  the 
name  of  a  mountain.  In  spite  of  its  much  lower  height, 
Arthur's  Seat,  which  is,  of  course,  not  a  volcano  but  only  its 
core,  is  to  many  minds  a  more  imposing  sight — especially 
when  seen  brooding  in  the  moonlight  over  the  sleeping  city 
at  its  feet — than  Vesuvius  can  be,  even  when  it  flames  like  a 
torch  above  the  cities  of  the  bay. 


228  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

The  reason  is  perhaps  fairly  obvious.  In  the  case  of 
Arthur's  Seat  the  temporary,  the  insignificant  has  long 
since  been  eliminated  ;  the  showy  but  unimportant  pheno- 
mena which  attract  the  attention  of  the  unphilosophical 
have  died  away  :  what  remains  is  a  permanent,  an  irrefutable 
testimony  to  the  hidden  fires  which  ultimately  make  life 
possible  on  the  globe.  One  may  perhaps,  without  fanciful- 
ness,  compare  the  two  regions  to  a  recurrent  phenomenon  of 
c-^,  human  hfe.  When  one  of  those  great  social  upheavals  occurs 
^J^  ;  which  are  themselves  a  testimony  of  the  vitaUty  of  human 
society,  the  surrounding  community  mostly  adopts  one  of 
two  attitudes.  There  are  those  who  are  impressed,  intensely 
impressed,  by  the  mere  outward  expression.  For  them  the 
dark  cloud  which  overhangs  Vesuvius,  the  appearance  of 
flames  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  showers  of  dust  and 
stones,  are  supremely  important.  For  others  the  essential 
insignificance  of  these  phenomena  masks  the  importance  of 
the  forces  of  which  they  are  an  indication.  Like  that  superior 
person,  the  younger  Pliny  at  the  time  of  the  destruction  of 
Pompeii,  such  individuals,  too  prone  to  arrogate  to  themselves 
the  title  of  philosophers,  continue  steadfastly  to  '  improve 
their  minds  '  while  their  world  rocks — regard  the  whole 
eruption  as  almost  beneath  their  notice. 

The  same  people,  on  the  other  hand,  are  wilhng  to  devote 
themselves  continuously  to  the  study  of  past  social  upheavals 
to  which  the  present  seems  to  them  to  offer  no  analogy. 
Thus  many  travellers  in  Italy  to-day  manifest  great  interest 
in  the  Risorgimento,  which,  now  that  it  has  been  accomplished, 
and  has  been,  as  it  were,  purified  by  time,  has  become  a 
phenomenon  of  interest  even  to  the  superior  person.  To 
the  Austrians  of  the  period,  on  the  other  hand,  the  often 
futile  attempts  of  the  Italians  to  free  themselves  seemed  as 
trivial  and  as  childish  as  did  certain  equivalent  phenomena 
at  home  to  unimaginative  Britons  to-day.  AUke  in  nature 
and  in  human  Ufe  the  great  task  of  the  thoughtful  is  to  striv* 


I'LA'I'F  XXII 


Near  the  summit  of  the  cone  of  \'esiiviiis,  sliowing  the 
unstable  slopes  of  <hist,  'ashes,"  lapilli    etc. 


THE  PHLEGR^.AN  FIELDS  229 

to  perceive  the  significant  beneath  the  dust  and  the  triviaUty 
of  the  present. 

In  order  then  to  reaUse  what  lies  hid  beneath  Vesuvius' 
cloak  of  dust  and  slag  let  us  turn  for  a  Uttle  to  the  older,  and 
therefore  in  some  respects  simpler,  phenomena  of  the  Phle- 
graean  fields. 

In  the  first  place  we  must  note  that,  as  already  stated,  the 
plains  round  Naples  are  floored  by  volcanic  deposits  which 
have  been  rearranged  by  water.  From  these  plains  rises 
the  conical  mass  of  Vesuvius,  built  up  round  one  great' 
vent,  though  the  actual  form  of  the  mountain  has  differed 
greatly  from  time  to  time — a  point  to  which  we  shall  return. 
In  contrast  to  the  persistent  vent  of  Vesuvius  we  have  in 
the  Phlegrfean  Fields  a  considerable  number  of  volcanic 
apertures,  each  of  which  has  had  a  short  period  of  activity, 
sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  Monte  Nuovo,  Umited  to  one  great 
outburst.  Thus  while  the  constant  additions  which  have 
been  made  to  the  pile  of  Vesuvius  have  enabled  the  mountain 
to  resist  as  a  whole  the  action  of  denudation,  though  constant 
changes  of  form,  especially  near  the  summit,  have  taken 
place,  the  Umitation  of  the  activity  of  the  separate  vents  of 
the  Phlegraean  Fields  has  led  to  the  wearing  down  or  partial 
removal  of  the  smaller  cones  which  were  produced  by  the 
separate  eruptions.  In  consequence  we  have  here  only  ruined 
craters,  volcanic  '  cones  '  so  worn  as  to  be  apparent  only  to 
the  trained  eye — generally  a  mass  of  hills  and  circular  or 
semi-circular  plains  or  basins,  instead  of  one  massive  moun- 
tain. The  identification  of  the  separate  foci  of  eruption  is 
therefore  not  always  easy,  and  there  is  not  complete  agree- 
ment among  different  investigators  as  to  their  number. 
Some  twenty-six  or  so  have,  however,  been  traced  with  some 
certainty,  and  a  special  feature  is  the  way  several  of  the  old 
craters  have  been,  as  it  were,  breached  by  the  sea  on  their 
southern  or  eastern  sides.  The  harbour  of  Misenum  is  an 
example,  while  the  Cape  of  the  same  name  is  but  a  fragment 


230  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

of  a  crater  wall  left  standing.  Indeed  Naples  itself  seems 
to  stand  upon  the  site  of  a  long  extinct  volcano,  whose  crater 
wall  has  completely  disappeared  on  the  south-eastern  side. 
According  to  one  view,  the  range  of  hills  which  extends  from 
Capodimonte  through  St.  Elmo  to  Posillipo,  and  gives  the 
town  so  much  of  its  beauty  of  situation,  is  the  remains  of 
,the  crater  wall  of  a  huge  volcano  which  once  stood  here. 

We  cannot  attempt  here  to  give  an  account  of  the  separate 
volcanoes  of  the  Phlegrsean  Fields.  That  to  which  tourists 
devote  most  of  their  time — the  Solfatara — may  serve  to 
illustrate  their  chief  features. 

The  Solfatara,  which  has  been  studied  perhaps  more  than 
any  other  volcano,  is  very  easy  of  access,  and  has  even  given 
its  name  to  a  stage  in  the  dying  out  of  a  volcanic  vent.  We 
approach  it  through  an  artificially  lowered  gap  in  the  crater 
wall,  and  have  then  before  us,  ringed  round  by  a  steep 
rampart,  the  almost  circular  crater,  giving  the  impression 
of  perfect  flatness,  partly  overgrown  with  vegetation,  and 
elsewhere  floored  with  bare  white  earth.  To  emphasise  the 
contrast  with  Vesuvius  we  must  give  a  few  figures. 

As  we  have  already  stated,  the  crater  wall  is  breached 
at  the  entrance  gate,  and  here  it  rises  only  some  65  feet 
above  the  flat  plain  within.  Elsewhere  the  walls  reach  a 
maximum  height  of  some  340  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
crater,  and  about  650  feet  above  sea-level,  for  the  floor  of 
the  crater  hes  only  some  300  feet  or  so  above  the  level  of 
the  adjacent  sea.  Thus  the  walls,  apart  altogether  from  the 
entrance,  vary  considerably  in  height,  but  show  everywhere 
the  characteristic  feature  of  being  very  steep  internally, 
and  having  a  much  gentler  slope  on  the  outer  side.  The 
diameter  of  the  crater  is  some  300  yards — it  is  altogether 
a  toy  volcano,  a  natural  model,  whose  very  activity  is,  as  it 
were,  modulated  so  as  to  give  the  inquiring  tourist  some 
insight  into  volcanic  phenomena,  without  any  trace  of  danger 
or  even  of  discomfort. 


1M,.\TK  Win 


Tlic  giianliau  uf  tlie  pit — ]5occa  (iramle  at  the  Solfatara. 


FUlVIAROLEvS  IN  THE  SOLFATARA  231 

Apart  from  the  shape,  the  special  point  of  interest  is  the 
fumaroles,  as  they  are  called — the  holes  on  the  crater  floor 
and  sides  from  which  water  vapour  and  other  gases  are  given 
ofE.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  these  he  on  the  bare 
part  of  the  floor,  which  sounds  hollow  beneath  one's  feet 
because  of  the  pores  and  cavities  in  the  subjacent  rock  through 
which  the  gases  rise.  As  one  walks  across  its  white  surface 
Uttle  columns  of  vapour  are  seen  rising  into  the  clear  air, 
specially  distinct  after  rain,  or  early  in  the  morning  before 
the  sun  has  full  power.  The  guides,  each  with  his  inevitable 
cigarette,  stoop  down  over  one  of  the  holes  and  blow  a  pufE 
of  smoke  into  it.  Immediately  from  an  adjacent  fumarole  a 
cloud  of  white  vapour  arises.  A  torch  or  a  fragment  of  burn- 
ing wood  will  similarly  increase  the  evolution  of  fumes.  The 
phenomenon  seems  to  be  largely  one  of  condensation.  The 
escaping  gas  consists  largely,  though  not  exclusively,  of 
water  vapour,  and  the  particles  of  smoke  serve  as  nuclei  of 
condensation,  the  efiect  produced  being  similar  to  that  of 
a  London  fog,  where  vapour  condenses  round  the  particles 
of  soot  in  the  air.  In  the  case  of  the  torch,  further,  the 
raising  of  the  temperature  of  the  earth  increases  the  evolution 
of  vapour,  which  condenses  in  the  cooler  air. 

In  addition  to  the  fumaroles  on  the  floor  of  the  crater 
others  occur  in  its  wall,  especially  in  the  S.E.  angle,  where 
the  so-called  Bocca  Grande  occurs  (Plate  XXIII.).  This  is 
partially  an  artificial  shaft,  from  which  copious  fumes  arise, 
while  deposits  of  sulphur,  sal  ammoniac,  and  so  forth  are 
obtained. 

Without  elaborating  the  description  further,  we  may 
simply  accept  the  statement  that  the  Solfatara  is  a  dying 
volcano  which  has  never  been  really  active  throughout  the 
historic  period,  for  the  so-called  eruption  of  1198  was  probably 
not  more  than  a  considerable  overflow  of  gas,  accompanied 
by  earth  tremors. 

To  what  does  it  owe  its  present  form  ?     It  is  almost  cer- 


232  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

tainly  what  is  known  as  an  explosion  crater,  and  thus  helps 
us  to  appreciate  the  present  shape   of    Vesuvius   and  the 
changes    which    that    mountain    has    undergone.     At    some 
unknown  period  in  prehistoric  time  the  present  site  of  the 
Solfatara  was  occupied  by  a  conical  hill,  a  true  volcanic  cone. 
This  volcano,  as  we  know  from  the  composition  of  the  present 
crater  ring,  threw  out  ashes,  later  compacted  into  tuff,  and 
from  it  also  there  welled  out  lava  flows.     Then  came  a  period 
of  quiescence,  when  the  chimney  of  the  volcano  was  plugged 
by  consohdated  lava,  for  the  lava  of  the  Solfatara  is  of  the 
kind  which  sets  rapidly.     The  plug  of  lava  we  may  describe 
as  hermetically  sealing  the  subterranean  kettle.     But  within 
the  kettle  steam   and   other   gases  were   continually  being 
generated.     In  course  of  time  the  expansive  force  overcame 
the  resistance  of  the  lava  plug,  and  the  whole  top  of  the 
mountain  was  blown  into  space — not  only  the  hd  of  the  kettle, 
if  we  may  continue  the  metaphor,  but  the  whole  of  its  upper 
segment.     The  present  Solfatara  is  thus  the  bottom  half  of 
the  original  cone,  the  gaping  wound  at  the  summit  which  we 
call  the  crater  remaining  to  mark  the  force  of  the  explosion. 
Since  that  great  explosion  the  kettle  has  continued  to  emit 
bubbles  which  find  an  easy  escape  at  the  surface,  and  no 
new  catastrophe  has  taken  place.     A  volcano  which  presents 
this  resemblance  to  a  burst  boiler  is  said  to  have  an  explosion 
crater,   and  of  this   on   a   small  scale  the  Solfatara  is  an 
admirable  example. 

After  this  study  of  a  toy  volcano  we  are  better  prepared 
to  appreciate  Vesuvius,  where  the  same  thing  has  occurred 
more  than  once,  and  on  a  gigantic  scale.  If  we  take  the 
precaution  already  recommended  of  becoming  famihar  with 
that  mountain  from  several  points  of  view  before  ascending 
it,  these  statements  will  be  readily  understood. 

The  most  famihar  view,  perhaps,  owing  to  its  constant 
reproduction,  is  that  from  the  forum  at  Pompeii.  There 
we  see  the  steep-sided,  rubbly,  vegetationless  cone,  with  its 


MONTE  SOMMA  AND  ITS  ORIGIN  233 

relatively  small  summit  crater,  rising  from  the  far  gentler, 
orchard-covered  slopes  below.  To  the  right  in  the  Pompeii 
view,  and  therefore  to  the  east,  rises  another  hill,  not  at  the 
present  time  greatly  inferior  in  height  to  the  cone,  but 
separated  from  it  by  a  wide,  more  or  less  flat,  valley.  This 
is  Monte  Somma,  and  it  is  easy  to  observe  that  it  forms 
approximately  a  half  ring  round  the  present  cone,  for  it  is 
complete  on  the  north  and  east  sides,  while  to  the  south  and 
west  it  is  absent.  The  broad  valley  between  the  cone  and 
Monte  Somma  is  the  Atrio  del  Cavallo,  which  has  a  general 
resemblance  to  a  carriage  way,  though,  as  we  shall  see,  its 
floor  is  far  from  even. 

Note  next  the  slopes  of  Monte  Somma.  These  are  extra- 
ordinarily steep  on  the  inner  side,  that  towards  the  Atrio, 
but  very  gentle  on  the  outer  side.  If  the  lessons  of  the 
Phlegraean  Fields  have  been  learnt  it  will  be  at  once  obvious 
that  this  shows  that  the  existing  Monte  Somma  is  the  rem- 
nant of  a  once  continuous  crater  ring,  and  that  the  present 
cone  is  *  parasitic,'  that  is,  it  has  been  formed  on  the  floor  of 
a  vast  prehistoric  crater.  The  Atrio  del  Cavallo  is  the  gap 
between  the  base  of  the  new  cone  and  the  inner  edge  of  the 
old  crater  wall. 

Since  the  great  eruption  of  79  a.d.  Vesuvius  has  been 
active,  with  periods  of  intervening  repose,  periods  which  have 
been  short  since  the  sixteenth  century.  Before  the  beginning 
of  our  era  we  have  practically  no  direct  information  in  regard 
to  the  mountain,  but  a  considerable  number  of  deductions 
can  be  made  on  the  basis  of  the  deposits  of  Monte  Somma. 
Thus  it  is  beHeved  that  the  original  volcano  was  submarine, 
and  that  there  was  gradually  built  up  a  huge  cone,  which  at 
the  time  of  its  maximum  development  probably  attained  a 
height  of  7000  feet,  some  3000  feet  greater  than  at  present.  At 
some  unknown  date  a  great  paroxysmal  eruption,  or  a  series 
of  such  eruptions,  took  place,  and,  as  at  the  Solfatara,  but  on 
a  far  grander  scale,  an  explosion  crater  was  formed,  the  whole 


234  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

top  of  the  mountain  being  blown  into  space.  The  result  was 
to  form  the  Vesuvius  of  the  early  Christian  era,  with  its  huge 
crater,  overgrown  with  wild  vines,  in  which  the  gladiator 
Spartacus  and  his  army  had  a  little  earlier  taken  refuge. 

When  the  great  eruption  of  79  occurred,  half  the  crater 
ring  was  destroyed,  leaving  the  other  half  as  Monte  Somma, 
and  either  then  or  at  a  later  date  a  central  cone  with  a  summit 
crater  was  built  up.  Subsequent  eruptions  have  greatly 
modified  the  central  cone,  which  was  considerably  altered  in 
shape  so  lately  as  the  eruption  of  1906,  and  these  modifications 
enable  us  to  distinguish  between  two  main  types  of  Vesuvian 
activity.  These  may  be  best  understood  by  a  brief  account 
of  the  recent  activities  of  the  mountain.  But  before  pro- 
ceeding to  this  it  may  be  well  to  note  that  Vesuvius  is  an 
example  of  what  is  called  a  mixed  volcano.  Some  volcanoes 
eject  only  fragmentary  matter — called  dust,  ashes,  scoriae, 
bombs,  and  so  forth,  according  to  its  nature.  Others,  and  of 
these  the  Sandwich  Island  volcanoes  are  the  best-known 
examples,  only  give  forth  lava.  Vesuvius,  on  the  other  hand, 
produces  both  fragmentary  matter  and  lava,  the  former 
predominating. 

With  regard  to  the  lava  a  few  words  of  explanation  are 
necessary.  We  all  of  us  begin  our  actual  survey  of  Vesuvius 
Yidth  some  vague  reminiscences  of  geography  lessons  in  mind, 
and  most  of  us  are  apt  to  assume  that  lava  comes  out  of  a 
volcano  by  a  process  analogous  to  the  boihng  over  of  a 
pan  of  toffee.  But  the  existing  cone  of  Vesuvius,  we  may 
repeat,  is  built  up  of  the  loosest,  most  incoherent  material. 
Anything  less  like  the  edge  of  an  iron  saucepan  than  the  rim 
of  the  present  crater  can  scarcely  be  imagined.  The  usual 
process  of  lava  emission  may  be  regarded  as  something  Uke 
the  following  : — 

Suppose  we  have  a  toffee  pan  without  a  handle,  and  sink 
it  through  one  of  the  rings  on  the  top  of  the  kitchen  stove 
into  the  heart  of  the  fire.     Pile  up  on  the  stove  round  the 


THE  ERUPTIONS  OF  VESUVIUS  235 

opening  of  the  ring  a  great  iieap  of  loose  sand,  to  form  a 
truncated  pyramid,  with  an  aperture  at  the  top.  Presently 
the  toffee  boils  over.  It  cannot  spread  at  once  over  the  top 
of  the  stove,  for  the  sand  cone  stops  it,  but  sooner  or  later 
it  succeeds  in  maldng  a  rent  at  some  part  of  the  sand  cone, 
and  trickles  out  and  down  the  lower  slopes  of  the  cone.  The 
stove-top  except  at  the  centre  is  presumed  to  be  cool,  so 
presently  our  toffee  consolidates  and  makes  little  heaps 
comparable  to  what  are  called  lava  cones.  But  to  make 
the  whole  model  like  Vesuvius  we  should  have  to  add  an  in- 
complete outer  ring  of  solid  material.  Then  the  uncovered 
part  of  the  stove-top  between  the  outer  and  inner  rings  would 
be  the  Atrio  del  Cavallo,  and  the  heaps  of  burnt  toffee  would 
represent  the  lava  cones  which  rise  from  its  surface.  In 
brief,  in  Vesuvius  the  lava  does  not  generally  well  over  the 
lip  of  the  crater  at  the  summit  of  the  cone,  but  finds  its  way 
out  through  fissures  in  the  sides  of  the  loose  incoherent 
mass. 

Returning  to  our  model,  let  us  note  what  would  be  likely 
to  happen  if  the  toffee  oozed  out  extensively  through  the 
loose  sand  walls.  Obviously  the  sand  pyramid  would  tend 
to  collapse  in  places,  and  the  sand  would  fall  into  the  toffee 
pan  below.  Suppose  this  resents  the  intrusion,  and  instantly 
spits  out  the  intruding  particles  in  a  hot  fountain — here  is 
a  working  model  of  Vesuvius. 

Now  let  us  turn  from  the  model  to  the  reahty.  The  great 
eruption  of  April  1906  was  prepared  for  during  some  years 
previously.  Thus  in  1891  a  great  rent  appeared  in  the  north 
side  of  the  cone,  and  from  this  or  its  vicinity  lava  flows  occurred 
during  a  period  of  three  years.  These  flows  built  up  the  hill 
now  called  CoUe  Margherita,  which  rises  up  from  the  Atrio 
and  consists  practically  of  nothing  but  lava — we  may  com- 
pare it  to  a  consoUdated  mass  of  toffee.  In  1895  another 
rift  appeared  on  the  N.W.  side,  and  for  four  years  lava  flowed 
out  from  this  gap  and  gave  rise  to  yet  another  lava  hill, 


236  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

reaching  a  height  of  about  500  feet,  measured  from  the 
floor  of  the  Atrio,  and  now  called  the  Colle  Umberto.  This 
fissure  ceased  to  send  out  lava  in  September  1899,  and  for  the 
four  following  years  the  activity  of  the  mountain  consisted 
chiefly  in  the  ejection  at  the  summit  of  the  cone  of  fragmentary 
matter  which  increased  its  height,  the  emission  not,  however, 
being  violent.  From  1903  onwards  lava  flows  again  began 
to  appear,  and  minor  lava  mounds  were  built  up  till  the  great 
eruption  of  April  1906,  when  new  lava  flows  occurred,  but  the 
most  striking  feature  was  the  f alUng  in  of  the  apex  of  the  cone, 
and  the  resulting  paroxysmal  discharge  of  tremendous 
showers  of  dust  and  ashes,  accompanied  by  larger  blocks. 
The  dust  covered  the  whole  upper  part  of  the  mountain  as 
with  snow,  and  great  masses  were  carried  over  the  lower 
slopes  and  plains  to  the  north-east,  involving  great  destruc- 
tion, with  loss  of  Hfe,  in  Ottajano  and  the  neighbouring 
towns  and  villages.  The  damage  done  by  the  lava  streams 
was  less  important. 

When  the  cloud  which  overhung  the  mountain  cleared 
away  it  was  seen  that  its  summit  level  had  been  lowered, 
by  an  amount  approaching  300  feet,  this  corresponding 
to  the  mass  of  material  disseminated  over  the  surrounding 
country.  Thus  we  may  contrast  the  two  forms  of  activity 
displayed  by  Vesuvius  as  the  ordinary  or  cone-forming, 
when  the  height  of  the  mountain  is  increased  by  the  addition 
of  new  material,  and  the  paroxysmal  or  cone-destroying, 
when  the  summit  collapses  and  is  then  blown  into  space  as 
the  so-called  dust  and  ashes.  Lava  flows  may  accompany 
both  forms  of  activity.  Or  we  may  put  the  matter  in  another 
way,  and  say  that  the  ordinary  form  of  activity  results  in 
the  accumulation  of  material  around  the  volcanic  vent, 
while  the  paroxysmal  eruptions  carry  much  of  the  material 
far  from  the  vent,  and  distribute  it  over  the  surrounding 
regions. 

The  modes  of  distribution  in  the  latter  case  are  interesting. 


ASH  AND  LAVA  FLOWS  237 

In  the  first  instance  the  material  is  carried  up  to  a  great 
height  by  the  force  of  the  explosion,  and  while  in  the  air  it 
is  subjected  to  the  action  of  wind,  which  aids  in  the  dis- 
semination, especially  of  the  finer  particles.  But  this  is  not 
all.  Much  of  the  material  of  course  falls  near  the  vent, 
and  after  the  last  great  eruption  Vesuvius,  as  already  stated, 
looked  as  though  covered  by  a  tremendous  fall  of  snow. 
Now  this  material  was  exceedingly  loose,  and  almost  at  once 
shpping  occurred,  compared  by  observers  famihar  with  the 
Alps  to  avalanche  formation.  Thus  the  sides  of  the  cone 
were  furrowed  by  great  valleys,  down  which  ceaseless  aval- 
anches swept,  until  the  loose  material  had  more  or  less 
reached  a  position  of  equihbrium.  Finally,  when  the  rain 
came  the  fine  material  was  turned  into  mud,  called  '  water 
lava  '  by  the  natives,  which  is  often  excessively  destructive 
to  cultivated  ground,  over  which  it  pours  in  a  flood.  The 
walls  which  are  so  conspicuous  a  feature  on  the  middle  slopes 
of  Vesuvius  have  for  their  object  the  protection  of  the  culti- 
vated land  from  these  mud  flows.  At  the  same  time  we 
must  notice  that  though  the  immediate  effect  of  the  dust  on 
cultivated  land  is  destructive,  yet  it  speedily  forms  excellent 
soil,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  lava  flows,  not  generally 
in  the  case  of  Vesuvius  of  very  great  immediate  importance, 
are  excessively  slow  in  decomposing  to  form  soil,  and  remain 
for  long  periods  barren  and  unsightly. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  ordinary  forms  of  Vesuvian  activity 
sterihse  only  the  upper  slopes  of  the  mountain,  which  con- 
tinually receive  small  accessions  of  fragmentary  material, 
in  addition  to  occasional  lava  flows.  Even  apart  also  from 
the  fuming  crater  those  barren  upper  slopes  bear  fumaroles 
from  which  gases  arise.  The  great  eruptions  sterihse,  either 
by  lava  flows  or  by  hot  fragmentary  material,  a  much  larger 
area,  often  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  mountain 
summit,  and  this  either  directly  or  by  the  subsequent  aval- 
anches and  flows  of  mud  lava.     But  in  the  latter  case  nature 


238  NAPLES  AND  VESUVIUS 

sooner  or  later  repairs  her  ravages  ;  the  villages  are  rebuilt ; 
the  proUfic  population  replaces  the  dead  by  new  births  ; 
new  vineyards  and  orchards  flourish  on  the  sites  of  those 
destroyed — larger  bands  of  tourists  flock  to  enjoy  new  thrills. 
So  the  eternal  processes  of  birth  and  death,  of  destruction 
and  construction,  go  on.  '  The  quick  spring  hke  weeds  out 
of  the  dead,'  who  are  speedily  forgotten.  Time  was  when 
Vesuvius  was  green  to  its  summit,  and  that  time  will  be  again. 
However  overwhelming  any  individual  eruption  may  be,  yet 
it  has  scarcely  ceased  before  nature  begins  once  again  her 
ordinary  processes  of  smoothing  down  hills  and  filhng  up 
valleys.  It  is  these  continuous,  insignificant  processes  which 
are  the  really  important  ones  ;  the  splendours  of  pine-shaped 
cloud  and  incandescent  projectiles  are  fundamentally  un- 
important. 

We  cannot  here  discuss  further  the  volcanic  phenomena 
to  be  observed  in  Italy.  It  may  be  sufficient  to  say  that 
all  those  interested  in  the  subject  will  not  fail  to  stop  on  their 
way  southward  to  study  the  beautiful  Alban  Hills  near 
Rome,  to  note  the  circular  lakes,  especially  that  of  Nemi, 
and  the  wonderful  f ertiUty  of  the  slopes  of  these  old  volcanoes, 
whose  fires  have  long  since  died  out,  as  compared  with  the 
almost  barren  Campagna.  Such  fertile  regions,  despite  the 
common  beUef  to  the  contrary,  are  not  of  very  frequent 
occurrence  in  Italy.  Much  of  her  surface  is  built  up  of 
recent  mountain  chains,  not  very  lofty,  it  is  true,  but  yet, 
in  the  prevalence  of  limestones,  which  give  rise  to  difficulties 
in  the  water  supply,  and  in  that  of  soft  clay  beds,  which 
continually  shp  and  do  not  permit  of  the  estabUshment  of 
permanent  watercourses,  very  imperfectly  adapted  to  human 
life.  If  then  the  volcanoes  of  Italy  have  often  spelt  disaster 
to  her,  they  have,  we  must  remember,  also  brought  in  certain 
areas  permanent,  self-renewing  fertihty. 

Refeeences.  For  the  general  subject  of  volcanoes,  reference 
should  be  made  to  the  ordinary  text-books  of  geology  and  also  to 


STUDIES  OF  VESUVIUS  SS9 

Scrope's  Volcanoes,  an  interesting  old  book,  and  Judd's  work  w-ith  a 
similar  title.  The  best  modern  description  of  the  Phlegrrean  Fields 
is  that  by  Prof,  de  Stefani — 'Die  Phlegraisclicn  Folder  bei  Xeapel.' 
Pp.termnnn' s  Mitteilungen,  Erganzungsheft,  15G,  1907,  with  descrip- 
tions of  all  the  volcanoes.  Another  paper  on  the  same  subject  is 
Giinther's  '  The  Phlegrrean  Fields '  in  the  GeographicalJournal,  x.,  1897. 
Almost  all  geological  works  give  some  account  of  Vesuvius,  which 
has  been  perhaps  more  fully  studied  than  any  other  volcano.  A 
small  book  called  Vesuv  v.  seine  Gescliichte,  by  Schneer  and  Stein- 
Nordheim  (Naples,  1895),  should  be  consulted,  especially  for  its  quaint 
illustrations  of  the  mountain  throughout  the  Christian  era ;  the 
frontispiece,  representing  the  emotions  of  certain  climbers  of  an  earlier 
date,  is  especially  fitted  to  inspire  gratitude  for  the  labours  of  the  in- 
dustrious Cook.  The  ItaUan  geologist,  Mercalli,  has  written  much  on 
the  uaountain,  and  some  of  his  results  will  be  found  in  his  general  book 
called  /  Vulcani  Attivi  della  Terra  (Milan,  1907).  Dr.  Johnston-La  vis 
has  also  contributed  many  papers  to  the  hterature  of  the  subject ;  two 
of  his  papers,  '  The  Geology  of  Monte  Somma  and  Vesuvius '  {Quart. 
Journ.  Geol.  Soc.  XL.,  1884),  and  a  paper  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Royal  Dublin  Society,  reprinted  as  The  Eruption  of  Vesuvius  in  April, 
1906  (Dubhn,  1909),  are  especially  interesting.  The  latter  has  some 
very  instructive  photographs.  Reference  should  also  be  made  to  two 
papers  by  Lacroix  on  the  same  eruption  in  the  October  and  November 
numbers  of  the  Revue  Oenerale  des  Sciences  fur  1906,  also  with  ezcellent 
illustrations. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BETWEEN   THE   MOUNTAINS   AND   THE    SEA 

'  Son  Monaco  sopra  un  scoglio, 
Non  semino  e  non  raccoglio, 
E  pur  mangiare  voglio.' 

*  I  AM  Monaco  seated  on  a  rock  ;  I  neither  sow  nor  do  I 
reap,  and  yet  it  is  my  desire  to  eat/  The  words  might  be 
said  of  most  of  the  townships  along  that  favoured  belt  where 
Monaco  lies,  and  we  might  add,  in  the  expressive  phrase  for 
which  there  is  no  good  EngUsh  equivalent,  that  Monaco  no 
less  than  its  companion  towns  and  villages  has  a  strong 
desire  '  to  eat  well.'  But  we  must  in  justice  admit  that 
the  absence  of  sowing  and  reaping  is  fundamentally  due 
rather  to  natural  conditions  than  to  human  wickedness, 
and  that  do  what  it  may  with  intensive  gardening,  the  popula- 
tion along  this  belt  by  the  azure  sea  must  in  the  long  run 
chiefly  depend  upon  its  wonderful  winter  cUmate — its  great 
asset  in  the  market  of  the  world.  We  have  aheady  said 
something  of  the  characters  of  that  climate,  let  us  now  look 
in  a  little  more  detail  at  the  general  features  of  the  French 
and  ItaUan  Rivieras. 

The  Alps,  as  we  have  assumed  throughout  in  this  book, 
form  a  temperature  divide,  a  fact  which  is  borne  in  upon  the 
northern  tourist  as  his  train  sweeps  out  of  one  or  other  of 
the  great  tunnels,  and  swings  and  sways  down  to  the  plains 
through  lands  clothed  first  with  chestnut,  then  with  mulberry 
and  vine,  or  even  oUve.  Their  apparent  importance  as  a 
dividing  line  of  climate  is  greatly  accentuated  by  the  fact 
that  their  protective  influence  is  most  marked  at  their  base, 

240 


CLIMATE  OF  RIVIERA  241 

where  also  the  scenery  is  naturally  picturesque,  so  that  the 
region  is  much  visited.  The  shores  of  Maggiore  (in  part), 
of  Como,  Lugano,  and,  especially,  of  Garda,  are  thoroughly 
'  ItaUan  '  in  character,  and  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year 
impress  the  traveller  greatly  owing  to  the  contrast  of  their 
vegetation  with  that  further  north  (Plate  XXIV.).  But  we 
must  not  forget  that  beyond  the  sheltered  '  Itahan '  belt  at 
the  foot  of  the  Alps,  comes  the  broad,  uniform,  '  Mid- 
European  '  Plain  of  Lombardy,  which,  in  its  sharp  contrast 
of  summer  and  winter  temperatures,  in  the  period  of  its 
rainfall,  in  its  adaptation  to  cereal-growmg  on  the  large 
scale,  in  the  scanty  development  of  trees  and  in  the  absence 
of  deUcate  plants  like  the  olive,  is  strikingly  difierent  from 
much  of  Italy  proper.  Thus  not  the  whole  of  Italy  is 
Italian  in  climate  and  vegetation. 

Note  next  the  position  of  the  Riviera.  We  have 
spoken  akeady  of  the  great  curve  taken  by  the  Alps  and 
of  the  fact  that  as  the  Maritime  and  Ligurian  Alps  they 
are  practically  continuous  with  the  Ligurian  Apennines, 
which  begin  at  the  Col  or  Bochetta  d'Altare.  Now  the 
Apennines  as  a  whole  constitute  a  far  more  marked  climatic 
divide  than  do  the  Alps,  and  the  narrow  belt  between  the 
Ligurian  mountains  and  the  sea,  is,  as  it  were,  the  concen- 
trated essence  of  Italy.  Here  the  cUmatic  belts  of  that 
country  are  telescoped  upon  one  another  ;  here  at  sea-level 
we  have  a  chmate  which  cannot  be  found  again  without 
travelUng  south  nearly  as  far  as  Naples.  The  Ligurian 
Apennines,  continued  into  the  Ligurian  and  Maritime  Alps, 
are  the  northern  boundary  and  the  raison  d'etre  of  that 
favoured  tract  which  we  call  the  Riviera. 

But  we  must  notice,  as  a  reason  if  not  a  justification  for 
Monaco's  predatory  instincts,  that  the  causes  which  give 
the  region  its  splendid  climate  almost  necessarily  deprive 
the  more  favoured  spots  of  much  economic  value. 

Let  us  develop  this  statement.     The  Riviera  is  a  belt  of 

Q 


212   BETWEEN  THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THE  SEA 

coast,  bent  at  something  approaching  a  right  angle,  the 
eastern  boundary  of  the  angle  forming  the  Riviera  di  Levante 
— the  coast  of  the  rising  sun — and  the  western  the  Riviera 
di  Ponente — of  the  setting  sun — continued  into  the  French 
Riviera.  Genoa  occupies  practically  the  point  where  the  bend- 
ing takes  place,  and,  as  we  shall  see  in  a  moment,  the  very 
conditions  which  make  it  a  great  town  and  seaport  deprive 
it  of  the  Riviera  climate. 

What  gives  the  French  Riviera  and  the  Riviera  di  Ponente 
their  favourable  chmate  ?  In  the  first  place,  the  hills  stand 
close  behind  the  narrow  strip  of  shore,  and  these  hills  are 
largely  bare  rock,  often  limestone  rock.  The  region  faces 
south-east,  the  prevailing  winter  winds  are  westerly.  All 
day  long  the  sun  strikes  the  bare  cliffs  behind  the  shore 
towns,  all  day  long  those  chfEs  reflect  back  the  heat,  till  the 
whole  place  is  soaked  in  sunshine,  and  the  temperature  is  Kke 
that  of  an  English  summer.  As  the  sun  sinks,  and  the  hot- 
house effect  wears  off,  the  temperature  drops  with  a  run,  an 
effect  accelerated  by  the  clearness  of  the  air.  But  before  the 
sun  has  sunk  the  pretty  ladies  and  their  squires  have  gone 
indoors,  the  band  has  stopped  playing,  the  gorgeous  flowers 
in  the  gardens  have  been  carefully  tucked  up  in  blankets  for 
the  night — the  daytime  joys  are  over. 

The  soft  rocks  of  the  coast  yield  abundant  dust,  and  the 
rushing  motor-cars  leave  behind  them  thick  clouds  raised 
from  the  surface  of  the  roads.  But  during  the  winter  months 
the  rain-bearing  winds,  warm  and  damp  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean, are  chilled  as  they  rise  over  the  coastal  mountains,  and 
deposit  at  times  copious  but  not  continuous  rain,  which  lays 
the  dust  and  refreshes  the  vegetation.  Thus  we  get  the  charac- 
teristic winter  climate  of  places  like  Mentone  and  Nice,  warm 
in  the  daytime,  cool  or  cold  at  night,  with  bright  sunshine, 
clear  air,  and  relatively  Uttle  wind.  As  we  journey  to  the 
south-west,  however,  beyond  Cannes,  the  greater  distance 
of  the  mountains  from  the  coast  diminishes  their  power  of 


PLATE  XXIV 


An  olive  grove  on  Lake  Conio.  Note  the  characteristic  basket 
on  the  back  of  the  woman.  The  vegetation  here  is  Mediter- 
ranean in  character,  while  the  olive  does  not  grow  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Maggiore. 


THE  EASTERN  AND  WESTERN  RIVIERA      243 

protection,  and  the  dreaded  mistral  appears,  rendering  places 
like  Hyeres  unsuitable  for  invalids. 

Turn  now  to  the  north-east.  Here  Alassio  is  practically 
the  last  health  resort  of  the  Riviera  di  Ponente,  and  while 
both  Savona  and  Genoa  have  economic  importance,  to  the 
northern  visitor  they  do  not  rank  as  Riviera  towns.  The 
reason  is  fairly  obvious.  Both  owe  their  importance  to  the 
fact  that  the  chain  behind  each  is  low  enough  to  permit  of 
free  communication  with  the  plains  behind.  Genoa  is  bigger 
than  Savona,  partly  because  the  easy  passes  behind  it  permit 
of  communication  not  only  with  the  small  plain  of  Piedmont 
but  with  the  greater  one  of  Lombardy,  and  the  tremendously 
heavy  railway  traffic  which  concentrates  upon  the  town, 
shows  the  importance  of  this  free  communication.  But  this 
very  faciUty  of  communication  means  a  lower  mountain 
barrier,  means  the  existence  of  gaps,  means  that  the  *  green- 
house '  effect  is  here  less  noticeable,  so  that  Genoa  is  colder 
and  much  windier  than  the  Riviera  towns.  It  has  also 
more  rain,  and  this  for  a  reason  which  also  affects  all  the  towns 
of  the  Riviera  di  Levante. 

Genoa,  it  will  be  noted,  Ues  slightly  to  the  eastern  side  of 
the  bend,  that  is,  on  the  stretch  of  coast  which  runs  south- 
east. Now  the  winter  winds  are  very  generally  south- 
westerly, and  thus  strike  this  part  of  the  coast  perpendicu- 
larly. Thus  the  air  is  compelled  to  rise  up  the  steepest  slope, 
cools  quickly  and  deposits  much  rain.  Therefore  Genoa, 
and  with  it  the  whole  Riviera  di  Levante,  gets  more  rain 
than  the  western  Riviera.  In  the  latter  the  prevailing  ^^^lKls 
are  oblique,  or  have  a  rough  parallehsm  to  the  coastal  moun- 
tains. Thus  the  air  rises  more  slowly,  is  cooled  gradually 
and  deposits  less  rain  on  the  shore  towns.  Hence  one  reason 
why  the  eastern  Riviera  is  less  frequented  than  the  western 
is  the  heavier  rainfall,  and  the  somewhat  less  clear  air. 

Further,  the  climate  here  is  not  quite  so  warm  as  to  the 
west.     The  hills  arc  lower,  they  stand  a  Uttle  further  back, 


244    BETWEEN  THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THE  SEA 

and  thus  the  ground  slopes  up  to  them  more  gradually.  In 
consequence  the  hothouse  effect  is  diminished,  and  the 
temperature  is  lower,  though  this  is  perhaps  compensated 
for  by  the  diminution  of  glare. 

One  other  disadvantage  the  eastern  Riviera  possesses  as 
compared  with  the  western.  The  Apennines  behind  it, 
though  not  high,  are  wide,  and  offer  httle  opportunity  for 
communication  with  the  Plain  of  Lombardy  beyond.  Thus 
from  Genoa  to  Spezia  no  considerable  town  stands  on  the 
coastal  belt,  and  the  health  resorts  have  had  to  be  created, 
as  it  were,  out  of  small  fishing  villages,  themselves  placed 
where  the  entrance  of  a  stream  gives  an  alluvial  cone  and  the 
possibiUty  of  a  Uttle  cultivation,  as  well  as  some  shelter  for 
fishing-boats.  Further,  the  coast  here  is  very  steep  and  the 
difl&culties  of  communication  between  the  successive  villages 
considerable — a  fact  which  has  checked  their  growth.  Every 
one  who  has  travelled  south  by  this  route  knows  also  how 
diflBcult  it  has  made  railway  construction,  as  seen  by  the 
incessant  tunnels. 

This  brief  description  may  serve  to  make  clear  what  is 
meant  by  saying  that  the  Riviera  towns  have  need  to  take 
their  climate  and  their  beauties  of  land  and  sea  to  market, 
have  need  to  sell  their  charms,  for  the  possibiHties  of  honest 
work  are  few.  Their  forcing-house  chmate  is  due  to  the 
nearness  of  the  mountains  to  the  sea,  to  the  height  of  these 
mountains  ;  therefore  there,  where  the  chmate  is  best,  is  there 
least  opportunity  of  intercommunication  by  land,  is  there 
least  level  ground  which  can  be  cultivated,  are  the  streams 
too  short  to  form  important  valleys.  If  we  keep  these 
facts  in  mind  the  possibilities  of  disappointment  will  be 
lessened,  the  tendency  to  cheap  cynicism  diminished.  '  From 
Hyeres  to  the  frontier,'  said  an  indignant  chasseur  Alpin 
in  the  train  to  the  author,  '  there  are  nothing  but  rogues 
and  thieves,  and  no  honest  man  can  live.'  Without  accept- 
ing this  position  in  its  entirety,  one  may  admit  that  the 


CHARACTERS  OF  THE  REGION  245 

forcing-house  atmosphere  does  not  suit  the  higher  human 
virtues.  One  must  go  to  the  Riviera  for  what  it  can  give, 
and  not  seek  for  more. 

What  can  it  give  to  the  serious  traveller  ?  An  almost 
perfect  winter  climate,  beauty  of  scenery,  due  especially  to 
that  telescoping  of  cUmatic  zones  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
which  brings  the  snowclad  Alps  within,  apparently,  a  stone's- 
throw  of  rich  sub-tropical  vegetation,  and  almost  unequalled 
opportunities  for  seeing — but  not  always  handUng — a  very 
large  variety  of  plants.  Almost  all  the  rest  is  artificial,  and 
much  of  it  depressing  in  the  extreme. 

There  is,  as  we  have  already  emphasised,  very  little  level 
ground,  and  the  difficulties  of  communication  are  great. 
On  the  other  hand,  most  of  the  visitors  are  too  elegantly 
dressed  to  want  to  do  much,  and  for  individuals  to  walk 
would  be  to  suggest  that  they  could  not  afford  to  keep  motor- 
cars. Thus  to  make  a  health  resort,  the  chmate  beinsr  ariven, 
the  chief  essential  is  to  construct  a  promenade  where  beauty 
and  fashion  may  be  conveniently  displayed,  and  to  supply 
a  few  roads  capable  of  being  used  for  motoring.  As  the  hills 
were  not,  in  earher  times,  utilised  in  that  elaborate  fashion 
which  characterises  the  Alps  further  north,  pasturage  being 
scanty,  there  are  few  hill  paths,  and  those  in  existence  are 
mostly  very  rough.  In  the  Alps  further  north,  that  very 
complicated  system,  whereby  the  pastures  of  the  various 
levels  are  used  at  different  seasons,  has  resulted  in  the  establish- 
ment of  a  series  of  paths  which  required  no  very  great 
modification  to  be  made  available  for  the  use  of  tourists. 
No  such  system  of  paths  makes  the  hills  of  Liguria  readily 
available  to  the  ordinary  tourist. 

•Further,  what  cultivable  land  exists  can,  owing  to  the 
chmate,  be  utilised  for  costly  crops,  and  therefore  careful 
fencing  is  required.  While  at  one  time  the  characteristic 
Mediterranean  plants,  especially  the  olive,  were  much  grown, 
now  on  the  French  Riviera  at  least  the  laud  Ls  being  iucreai*- 


246    BETWEEN  THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THE  SEA 

ingly  put  down  to  early  flowers  and  vegetables,  for  which 
the  visitors  afford  a  local  market.  The  constant  spreading 
of  this  intensive  gardening  naturally  diminishes  the  amount 
of  land  carrying  the  original  Mediterranean  vegetation, 
though  this  can  still  be  studied  on  the  hill-sides.  Further, 
since  the  visitors  must  be  housed,  much  of  the  relatively 
level  land  is  required  for  the  huge  hotels  with  their  gardens, 
and  the  equally  large  villas  with  their  parks,  which,  not 
unnaturally,  are  always  tending  to  spread  over  the  most 
beautiful  areas.  Thus  the  sensitive  visitor  will  be  inclined 
to  say  of  certain  of  the  resorts  that  if  the  region  is  compared 
as  a  whole  to  a  forcing  house,  his  share  of  the  sun  has  to  be 
enjoyed  on  what  he  may  not  unjustly  describe  as  a  narrow 
band  of  greenhouse  staging,  from  which  he  may  see  the 
trees  peeping  over  the  high  villa  walls,  Uke  plants  appearing 
over  the  edge  of  flower  pots. 

The  result  is  that  except,  we  may  repeat,  for  the  oppor- 
tunities for  plant  study,  which  are  still  great,  the  serious- 
minded  traveller  has  not  a  great  deal  to  look  for  along  the 
Riviera  belt,  and  he  will  probably  be  best  advised  to  travel 
leisurely  right  along  it,  going  in  by  the  Mont  Cenis  and 
Genoa  and  returning  through  Marseilles  and  Lyons,  taking 
the  interesting  towns  of  Provence  on  the  way  north. 

Of  the  visitors  who  stay  many  are,  at  least  theoretically, 
invalids,  the  others  are  mostly  those  who  make  no  pretence 
of  having  an  interest  in  any  branch  of  geography  or  natural 
science.  They  are  of  those  who  travel  chiefly  for  a  change 
of  golf,  as  the  working-man  is  sometimes  stated  to  migrate 
in  search  of  a  change  of  beer.  The  author  is  under  the 
impression  that  golf  is  to  be  obtained  at  many  of  the  resorts, 
but  speaks  here  as  one  without  knowledge.  If  the  devotee 
be  unsatisfied,  however,  he  can  but  travel  further,  for  one 
may  say  broadly  that  the  really  practical  Briton,  when  he 
cannot  sterilise  land  by  factories  or  pit-heaps,  will  always 
strive  to  do  it  by  the  construction  of  golf  courses,  and  will, 
we  may  be  sure,  survey  the  flowery  glades  of  paradise  when 


A  DIGRESSION  247 

he  reaches  them  from  this  point  of  view  only.  Indeed 
a  solemn  British  guide-book,  in  describing  the  glories  of 
the  East,  which  to  some  minds  have  stood  for  paradise, 
gives  a  special  recommendation  to  Nuwara  EUya  in  Ceylon 
because  there,  *  among  other  attractions,  there  is  an  18-hole 
golf  course  which  is  said  to  be  the  best  in  the  East/  This 
great  achievement  is  due  undoubtedly  to  British  enterprise, 
and,  one  feels,  ought  to  move  the  poet  of  empire  to  thrill 
the  nation  with  another  hymn  to  duty.  If  the  Riviera 
golf-courses  are  relatively  inferior  it  is  no  doubt  because 
here  British  organising  abiUty  has  not  full  sway. 

But  this  is  to  wander  from  the  point.  If  the  golf  be  not 
all  it  should  be,  there  is  tennis,  pigeon-shooting,  gambhng, 
surveying  the  wonders  of  the  deep  at  the  Monaco  Oceano- 
graphical  Museum,  and  reflecting  on  the  various  uses  to 
which  man  at  different  stages  of  his  history  has  put  money 
acquired  by  means  against  which  his  conscience  revolts.  It  is 
an  excellent  museum,  but  it  is  difficult  not  to  break  off  one's 
study  of  models  illustrating  the  saUnity  of  the  ocean  in  order 
to  wonder  if  the  recent  swing  of  the  pendulum  away  from  the 
late  Victorian  passion  for  '  science '  as  the  way  of  escape 
from  human  w^oes  is  not  partially  due  to  the  sad  experience 
that  it  can  be  bought,  as  in  earUer  times  the  church  was 
bought ;  once  one  built  or  decorated  a  church  with  the 
thirty  pieces  of  silver,  now  one  endows  a  lecturer  to  prove 
that  the  great  betrayal  was  based  on  scientific  principles, 
or  can  be  justified  on  eugenic  grounds. 

If  these  pleasures  fail,  one  may  contemplate  the  sea  and 
Usten  to  the  band,  but  on  the  whole  prolonged  residence 
in  the  region  is  unsuitable  for  the  analytical,  or  the  restless 
of  temperament.  A  \\'inter  greenhouse  is,  after  all,  best 
fitted  for  grossly  overfed  chrysanthemums  or  drugged  and 
anaesthetised  Ulies  of  the  valley. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  somewhat  hurried  journey  along  the 
whole  coastUne,  with  occasional  stops,  not  only  gives  one 
a  cumulative  impression  of  the  beauties  of  land  and  sea  and 


248    BETWEEN  THE  MOUNTAINS  AND  THE  SEA 

flowers,  but  also  helps  to  emphasise  the  point  already  made, 
that  adaptation  to  the  purposes  of  a  tourist  resort  almost 
necessarily  involves  a  want  of  adaptation  to  cultivation  or 
other  forms  of  utihsation.     Thus  the  wider  bays,  where  a 
bigger  stream,  due  to  the  fact  that  the  mountains  are  not 
so  near  the  shore,  has  laid  down  a  larger  alluvial  cone,  are 
more  likely  to  be  given  up  to  market-gardening  than  to  the 
functions  of  a  health  resort  pure  and  simple.     At  the  same 
time   one    must  not  over-stress    these   facts,   for  Nice,  for 
example,  while  to  at  least  a  very  large  extent  displaying  the 
characteristic  Riviera  chmate,  owes  its  origin  as  a  consider- 
able town  to  what  we  may  describe  as  natural  conditions — 
i.e.  not  entirely  to  wealth  introduced  from  a  distance.     Thus 
it  has  many  of  the  advantages  of  Genoa,  if  on  a  smaller  scale. 
It  has  a  sheltered  port ;   it  has  access,  though  not  very  easy 
access,  by  the  Col  di  Tenda  with  the  plain  of  Piedmont,  and 
by  Digne  with  the  valley  of  the  Durance  ;  it  has  in  its  vicinity 
considerable  tracts  of  fertile  land,  which  can  be  devoted, 
owing  to  the  chmate,  to  valuable  crops,  and  of  these  neigh- 
bouring tracts  it  forms  the  natural  outlet.     But  the  very 
fact  that  it  is  fundamentally  an  independent  and  not  purely 
a  parasitic  city  renders  it  in  the  eyes  of  many  less  suitable 
as  a  resort  than  places  hke  Monaco  and  Mentone,  where  there 
is  but  little  local  individuahty  to  interfere  with  the  pleasures 
of  the  stranger.     Places  are  like  human  beings,  when  they 
make  it  their  one  object  to  serve  the  senses  of  strangers,  it 
must  needs  be  at  the  sacrifice  of  individuality — they  neces- 
sarily sell  their  souls  as  well  as  their  bodies.     One  must  admit 
also  that  the  northerners  who  are  the  purchasers — whether 
really  rich  or  only  pretending  to  be — do  not  show  their  best 
qualities  as  sojourners  by  the  tideless  sea. 

References.  As  we  have  seen,  the  chief  geographical  interest  of 
the  Riviera  is  found  in  its  flora,  and  for  books  relating  to  this  reference 
should  be  made  to  p.  96.  The  other  specially  interesting  feature,  the 
chmate,  is  fully  discussed  in  Hann's  book  (p.  58). 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AN  UPLAND   REGION  :     THE   SCOTTISH   HIGHLANDS 

'  Farewell,  green  fields  and  happy  groves, 
Where  flocks  have  ta'en  delight.' 

We  have  now  considered  the  great  chains  of  Central  Europe 
and  their  margins  under  various  aspects,  with  a  view  to 
bringing  out  the  present  features  of  their  surface  and  the 
causes  of  these.  But  since  in  connection  with  the  Central 
Alps  we  emphasised  chiefly  the  past  and  present  effects  of 
ice,  it  may  be  well  to  repeat  here,  with  renewed  emphasis, 
some  of  the  points  in  regard  to  structure  which  were  briefly 
mentioned  in  the  earlier  chapters. 

We  have  seen  that  the  Alps  consist  of  a  great  variety  of 
rocks — crystalline,  sedimentary  or  modified  sedimentary  and 
volcanic.  Whatever  their  composition,  however,  they  owe 
the  fact  that  they  are  mountains  to  earth  movements. 
Certain  regions,  Uke  the  Dolomites,  consist  of  almost  horizontal 
strata,  elevated  en  bloc,  and  then  dissected  by  the  forces  of 
erosion  into  sharp-peaked  or  pyramidal  mountain  masses, 
some  of  which,  hke  the  Cinque  Torri,  are  themselves  in  the 
act  of  being  worn  away — are  hke  ruined  buildings  at  a  disused 
pithead,  which  will  shortly  crumble  down  to  grass-grown 
mounds.  Others,  like  the  Matterhorn,  the  Mythen  near  the 
shores  of  the  lake  of  Lucerne,  the  Great  Spannort  at  Engel- 
berg,  and  so  on,  are  the  result  of  overthrusting  on  the  gigantic 
scale — are  the  dissected  remnants  of  rock-shces  which  have 
been  pushed  over  obstructing  earth-masses,  and  have  come 
to  lie  far  from  their  point  of  origin  in  the  crust.     Others 


250  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

again,  like  the  Santis  Mountains,  are  directly  due  to  folding, 
the  great  crumples  of  which  that  mountain  group  consists 
being  obvious  on  its  sides.  In  short,  the  Alps  owe  their 
elevation  above  the  surface  to  what  are  called  tectonic  causes, 
though  they  owe  the  details  of  their  form  to  erosion.  They 
have  not,  since  the  geologically  recent  period  of  their  origin, 
been  worn  down  to  base-level,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
levelling  forces  are  now  acting  upon  them  with  prodigious 
activity. 

As  contrasted  with  the  Alps  and  the  mountain  ranges  of 
which  they  form  a  part,  we  have  in  Europe,  as  already  seen, 
a  number  of  upland  regions,  which  are  in  origin  the  much 
dissected  and  redissected  remnants  of  far  older  mountain 
chains.  Of  these  we  shall  take  the  Highlands  of  Scotland 
for  somewhat  fuller  treatment.  These  Highlands  have,  as 
we  shall  see,  great  beauty  and  much  charm,  but — and  we 
should  be  clear  on  this  point — they  do  not  show  typical 
mountain  scenery.  One  sometimes  hears  it  said  that  it  is 
absurd  for  thousands  of  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain  to 
seek  the  Alps  every  year,  for  there  are  splendid  mountains 
in  their  own  country.  The  reply  is  that  there  are  no  true 
mountains  in  the  British  Islands  :  nothing  but  mountain 
stumps,  '  rejuvenated '  as  the  American  geographers  say,  so 
as  to  present  some  resemblance  to  mountain  forms,  but  lacking 
all  the  splendour  and  vigour  of  youth.  To  seek  mountain 
form  in  the  strict  sense  in  the  Highlands  is  to  court 
disappointment. 

After  this  brief  introduction  let  us  turn  back  to  Fig.  2,  p.  19, 
and  consider  the  broad  hnes  of  the  structure  of  the  Highlands. 
In  the  extreme  north-west  of  the  mainland  of  Scotland,  as 
well  as  in  the  Hebrides,  there  exist  at  the  present  day  areas 
floored  by  a  very  hard  and  much  worn  rock  called,  from  the 
Island  of  Lewis  where  it  is  very  abundant,  Lewisian  gneiss. 
The  regions  in  which  it  occurs  are  exceedingly  barren  and, 
except  where  other  rocks  occm^,  undulating  and  featureless. 


THE  NORTH-WESTERN  HIGHLANDS  251 

It  is  believed  that  this  is  an  exposed  remnant  of  the  first  land- 
mass  of  Europe.  A  similar  kind  of  rock  occurs  in  eastern 
Canada,  and  also  in  Sweden  and  Finland  (see  Fig.  2), 
suggesting  that  in  the  earliest  times  of  which  we  can  form  a 
conception,  a  land- mass  lay  to  the  north  and  north-west  of 
what  is  now  Europe. 

But  this  is  not  the  only  type  of  rock  which  occurs  in  north- 
west Scotland.     In  Sutherland,  where  much  of  the  surface 
is  formed  of  the  barren,  undulating,  monotonous  gneiss,  there 
rise  up  in  certain  places  steep-sided  conical  or  pyramidal 
mountains,  of  which  Suilven  (Lochinver  district)  is  a  good 
example.     These  mountains  are  built  up  of  red  sandstone, 
called   the   Torridon  sandstone  from  its  abundance  round 
Loch  Torridon,  and  resemble  the  Dolomites  described  in  the 
last  chapter  in  that  their  beds  Ue  almost  horizontally.     As 
the  capping  of  Torridon  sandstone  is  found  on  a  number  of 
separate  peaks  (Suilven,  Coul  More,  Coul  Beg,  Stac  Polly, 
etc.)  which  rise  from  the  plateau  of  gneiss,  it  seems  reasonable 
to  conclude  that  the  sandstone  once  constituted  a  uniform 
covering,    and    has    been    removed    in    certain    places    by 
denudation,  while   being  left  in  other  regions,   which  now 
form  hills.     In  some  places  in  the  north-west,  on  top  of  the 
Torridon  sandstone  we  find  beds  of  white  quartzite  and  other 
rocks  of  later  date,  but  still  belonging  to  a  very  early  period 
of  the  earth's  history  ;   that  in  which  many  of  the  rocks  of 
North  Wales  were  laid  down,  hence  called  Cambrian.    The 
conclusion  drawm  from  the  presence  of  these  two  kinds  of 
sedimentary  rocks    (that  is  rocks  laid  down  in  water),  is 
that  the  rivers  of  the  ancient  land  surface  to  the  north-west 
carried   down    quantities   of   debris   to   the   sea,    on  whose 
floor  the  sandstones  and  the  overlying  quartzites,  grits,  and 
Umestones  were  laid  down.     How  far  these  beds  extended 
over  the  present  Highlands  we  do  not  know.     All  the  next 
stages  are  indeed  obscure,  for,  apparently  during  the  period 
called   Silurian,    a   great   chain   of    mountains    was    ridged 


252  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

up  over  what  had  once  been  the  sea-floor  to  the  south  of 
the  old  land-mass.  As  in  the  case  of  the  Alps,  the  crumphng 
force  in  Scotland  acted  towards  the  north-west,  and  just  as 
the  earth  blocks  in  middle  Europe  stemmed  the  great  earth 
waves  when  the  Alps  arose,  so  the  old  land-mass  to  the  north- 
west acted  as  a  breakwater  to  the  earUer  waves.  Again,  much 
as  in  the  Alps,  owing  to  the  existence  of  this  obstacle,  over- 
thrusting  occurred  ;  for  since  the  folds  were  blocked  by  the 
resistant  upland  in  front  of  them,  they  bent  over,  and  the 
beds  were  thus  inverted,  so  that  lower  lie  on  the  top  of  higher  ; 
they  are  also  reduplicated,  because  upright  folds  become 
horizontal.  At  the  same  time  great  sheets  of  rocks  were 
carried  over  the  crest  of  the  obstacle,  and  came  to  lie  far 
from  their  region  of  origin.  During  the  folding,  crumpling 
and  overthrusting  the  rocks  in  the  Highlands  lost  their 
original  characters,  whatever  these  were,  and  became  con- 
verted into  schists  and  similar  rocks,  and,  as  in  the  Alps, 
volcanic  eruptions  took  place  in  connection  with  the  great 
earth  movements.  In  the  Southern  Uplands  the  folding 
was  less  intense,  and  the  rocks  preserved  more  of  their  original 
characters,  so  that  their  age  can  be  determined. 

The  great  range  of  mountains  which  arose  in  this  fashion 
is  called  by  Suess  the  Caledonian  range,  and,  at  the  period 
of  its  maximum  development,  it  stretched  not  only  through 
Scotland  but  also  through  western  England  into  Wales  and 
Ukewise  involved  the  greater  part  of  Ireland.  The  same 
chain  was  apparently  continuous  across  what  is  now  the 
North  Sea  into  Norway. 

Beyond  the  period  of  the  origin  of  the  Caledonian  range  we 
do  not  need  to  follow  the  geological  history  of  Scotland  ;  the 
point  of  importance  is  the  great  age  of  this  chain,  which  is 
infinitely  older  than  the  Alps.  In  its  prime  it  was  doubtless 
a  towering  and  magnificent  range,  with  peaks  and  needles, 
glaciers  and  snowfields — all  the  attributes  of  a  true  mountain 
chain.     But  the  forces  of  erosion  have  acted  upon  it  for 


THE  CALEDONIAN  CHAIN  253 

countless  ages,  and  probably  not  once  but  more  than  once 
has  it  been  worn  down  to  base-level.  It  has  also  been  frac- 
tured and  faulted,  the  line  of  the  Great  Glen  in  Scotland 
and  the  boundaries  of  the  Midland  valley  indicating  lines 
of  breakage  in  the  earth's  crust.  Long,  long  ago,  therefore, 
the  Caledonian  range  lost  all  the  characters  of  a  true  mountain 
range. 

But  though  new  earth-folds  have  never  re-formed  on  the 
site  of  the  old,  movements  of  elevation  and  depression  have 
taken  place.  If  a  mountain  chain  remain  for  a  prolonged 
period  above  the  surface  of  the  sea,  the  forces  of  erosion 
at  first  act  upon  it  with  great  rapidity  and  then  gradually 
slacken,  till  the  final  result  is  a  monotonous,  undulating 
surface,  whose  rivers  have  all  but  done  their  work.  If  such 
a  tract  be  again  raised  some  distance  above  sea-level,  then 
the  rivers  re-acquire  volume,  speed,  and  thus  power  to  erode 
and  transport,  and  the  cycle  recommences.  If  the  process 
be  repeated  more  than  once  then  all  the  softer  rocks  will 
in  course  of  time  be  removed,  so  that  even  after  the  recom- 
mencement of  a  new  cycle  only  rounded  forms  will  tend  to 
be  produced. 

Now  before  the  onset  of  the  Ice  Age  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland— the  only  part  of  the  site  of  the  ancient  Caledonian 
range  which  we  shall  consider — were  in  the  midst  of  such  a 
renewed  cycle.  An  ancient  monotonous  plateau  had  been 
uplifted  and  was  in  process  of  being  dissected  anew,  the 
dissection  having  taken  place  to  a  greater  extent  to  the  west 
than  to  the  east,  no  doubt  because  of  the  greater  rainfall 
there.  The  mountains  were  undulating  and  were  all  of 
approximately  the  same  height,  this  marking  the  elevation 
of  the  old  plateau  from  which  they  were  being  carved.  The 
valleys  were  wide  and  open,  the  constituent  rocks  uniform 
over  wide  areas. 

What  did  the  ice  do  ?  In  the  period  of  greatest  glacia- 
tion  the  whole  land    surface  and  part  of   the   sea-bottom 


254  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

was  covered  with  ice,  nunataks  (see  p.  194),  if  they  existed, 
being  few  and  far  between,  and  confined  to  the  west.  During 
such  periods  the  work  of  the  ice  must  have  been  chiefly  the 
smoothing  of  the  surface  in  the  higher  region,  transporting 
debris  to  the  lower  regions,  and,  owing  to  the  load  of  stones 
or  grit  in  the  under  layers  of  the  ice,  assisted  perhaps  by  the 
sub-glacial  water,  hollowing  out  basins  in  the  underlying 
rock,  especially  where  the  ice  debouched  from  higher  ground  to 
lower,  or  where  several  streams  of  ice  converged.  But  for 
the  most  part,  during  the  maximum  glaciation,  the  effects, 
whether  of  erosion  or  of  deposition  (boulder  clay),  must  have 
been  best  marked  outside  the  Highland  area. 

In  the  later  stages,  however,  there  seems  httle  doubt  that 
separate  valley  glaciers  existed,  which  headed  in  cirques  or 
corries  and  then  flowed  down  valleys,  much  as  glaciers  do 
in  the  Eastern  Alps  to-day.  These  later  glaciers  seem  to  have 
produced  a  marked  effect  on  the  surface.  They  modified 
the  upper  regions  of  the  mountains,  where  they  converted 
the  old  valley  heads  into  cirques  (Plate  XXV.)  ;  they 
altered  the  valleys,  turning  the  old  V-shaped  river  valleys 
into  U-shaped  ones,  giving  rise  to  lake  basins,  smoothing 
watersheds  where  they  over-rode  them  because  their  own 
valleys  were  too  small  to  hold  the  mass  of  ice,  laying  down 
great  piles  of  morainic  matter,  and  so  forth. 

Thus  to  the  general  tourist,  the  most  interesting  points 
about  the  Highlands  must  be,  first,  the  indications  of  the 
old  plateau,  seen  especially  in  the  vast  extent  of  undulating 
surface,  lying  at  a  considerable  height  above  sea-level ; 
second,  the  frequent  appearance  towards  the  summit  of 
the  hills  of  extraordinary  steep-sided  cirques  which  some- 
times approach  one  another  at  opposite  sides  so  that 
peaks  and  aretes  are  produced ;  third,  the  pecuhar 
characters  of  the  Highland  vaUeys,  glens  as  they  are  called, 
with  their  often  steep  walls,  their  lakes,  their  waterfalls, 
their  great  moraines,  and  so  forth.     It  is  the  combination 


I'l.Aii-;  xxv 


\'ic\v  in  (iloncoe,  showing  a  ty|)ical  Higlilanil  idiiio  hanging;  high  ahove 
the  ovci-ilet'iK'nuil  \allry. 

(/'/to.'o  hi/  the  Geological  Survey.) 


THE  CAIRNGORM  REGION  255 

of  these  three  different  types  of  scenery  that  give  the  High- 
lands their  special  features.  One  result  is  that  photographs 
give  but  a  very  imperfect  notion  of  their  beauties,  for  the 
mountain  corries  and  the  glens  can  rarely  be  included  in  the 
same  view,  and  comprehensive  views  are  apt  to  seem  dull 
because  they  tend  to  show  neither  glen  nor  corrie,  but  only 
undulating  slopes.  This  again  leads  to  the  fact  that  the 
most  popular  photographs  are  those  which  include  woodland, 
most  abundant  in  Perthshire  and  the  Dee  valley,  or  water 
effects,  and  such  photographs  give  an  incomplete  conception 
of  the  scenery  as  a  whole.  Geographically,  we  may  repeat, 
the  interest  of  the  Highlands  comes  from  the  co-existence  of 
remnants  of  two  stages  of  erosion,  and  to  appreciate  this  one 
must  know  the  region  both  from  above  and  from  below,  must 
combine  a  number  of  separate  impressions.  The  '  pretti- 
ness  '  of  Perthshire,  which  is  so  apt  to  be  regarded  by  the 
stranger  as  the  best  the  Highlands  have  to  offer,  is  not  dis- 
tinctively Highland. 

To  get  a  real  grip  of  their  topographical  peculiarities  one 
should  visit  not  only  some  part  of  the  eastern  plateau,  with  its 
very  moderate  dissection,  but  also  some  part  of  the  western 
region,  where  dissection  had  proceeded  much  further  before 
the  ice  came,  and  where  the  effect  of  the  ice  was  often  to 
carve  out  the  summits  into  something  which  closely  resembles 
mountain  peaks,  and  to  turn  the  valleys  into  deep,  steep- 
sided  glens,  characterised  by  their  lateral  waterfalls,  their 
rapid  brown  streams,  and  their  beautiful  lakes. 

For  the  eastern  region  the  Cairngorms  (Plate  XXVI.),  or 
perhaps  still  better  the  Lochnagar  district  may  be  recom- 
mended. In  chmbing  Lochnagar  one  ascends,  at  least  from 
the  Loch  Callater  side,  by  long  slopes  not  much  more  than 
gentle,  and  one  has  all  round  an  interminable  expanse  of  roll- 
ing country,  rounded  and  smoothed  by  ice,  but  essentially  a 
plateau  and  not  a  mountain  region.  As  one  reaches  the 
summit  plateau  of  the  White  Mounth  and,  somewhat  dis- 


256  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

illusioned,  strolls  onward  to  reach  the  cairn  which  marks 
the  undistinguished  summit,  one  suddenly  finds  oneself 
overlooking  a  huge  steep-sided  corrie,  holding  a  lake  on  its 
floor,  having  magnificent  buttresses  running  out  from  its 
sides,  and  showing  altogether  a  splendour  of  rocky  scenery 
for  which  the  long  trudge  up  has  given  no  preparation.  '  This/ 
in  the  famous  words  of  Agassiz  on  another  occasion,  '  is  the 
work  of  the  ice,'  and  this  also  is  what  gives  the  Highlands 
half  their  charm.  A  further  investigation  of  the  valleys 
which  trench  the  great  plateau  so  abruptly  will  reveal  here 
also  the  efiect  of  the  vanished  glaciers,  for  many  of  the 
features  which  we  noticed  in  the  Alpine  valleys — the  shape, 
the  valley  lakes,  the  hanging  lateral  valleys,  the  smoothed 
cols  and  watersheds,  the  morainic  mounds — are  present  here 
as  they  were  there. 

Of  the  western  region  the  island  of  Arran,  where  in 
the  Goat  Fell  region  the  old  plateau  is  deeply  dissected, 
and  its  summit  levels  eaten  back  on  all  sides  to  peaks  and 
ridges,  or  the  Cruachan  massif  and  the  neighbouring  hills 
near  Loch  Awe,  or  the  hills  round  the  upper  end  of 
Loch  Lomond  all  form  good  examples.  These  western  hills 
should  if  possible  be  visited  in  winter,  for  the  sudden 
appearance  of  exposed  rock  at  their  summits,  after  the 
slow  chmb  up  the  snow-covered  slopes,  is  then  especially 
striking.  JMists  generally  hang  over  the  tops,  increasing  the 
apparent  height.  The  way  up  is  over  grass  or  heather 
sprinkled  with  snow,  generally  high  above  the  deep,  steep- 
sided  glens  with  their  fringe  of  alder  and  rowan,  and  as  the 
mists  drift  about  above  one  has  vague  ghmpses  of  what  seem 
to  be  terrific  precipices.  Though  these  are  not  generally 
quite  so  terrible  as  they  seem,  yet  it  is  rare  in  the  case  of  the 
higher  mountains  not  to  find  some  real  climbing  necessary 
near  the  summit,  involving  in  winter  step-cutting  and  the 
forcing  of  a  passage  through  chimneys  or  gulHes.  In  summer, 
on  the  other  hand,  most  of  the  hills  are  readily  accessible 


>i  ^  '^    O    X    03 

?  i  ?  -  2 .2 


-5  c 


3  ^  1": "  _!! 


S  ~  ^  to  ,  Is  - 

^  =  =  E  *^  o's 

^^     O     3     __    i   *J     M 


"H  "  -^  i;  rj  •-  i 


=  =  *  ?  1;;=  a, 

u    ci    X    A    -X.    o 


BEN  NEVIS  257 

by  one  route  at  least,  though  it  often  happens  that  other 
routes  afford  scope  for  fine  climbing,  in  the  most  literal 
sense. 

There  is  indeed  much  of  geographical  significance  in  the 
history  of  Scottish  climbing  (and  the  same  apphes  more  or 
less  to  cUmbing  in  the  English  Lake  district  or  in  Wales). 
It  is  in  the  first  place  a  development  out  of  Alpine  cUmbing  ; 
necessarily  so,  for  most  of  the  hills,  as  we  have  said,  present 
little  or  no  difiiculty  in  summer,  and  in  the  earlier  days  no 
one  tried  them  in  winter.  Now  Alpine  cUmbing  involved 
in  the  early  days,  and  still  involves,  natural  difficulties. 
Many  of  the  mountains  are  difficult  to  climb  by  any  route, 
and  cUmbing  skill  was  first  acquired  in  the  overcoming  of 
these  unavoidable  difficulties.  Later,  of  course,  difficult 
routes  were  sought  and  employed  because  of  their  difficulty. 
In  Scotland,  on  the  other  hand,  for  the  most  part  cUmbing 
in  the  technical  sense  is  comparable  to  an  attempt  to  reach 
the  attic  storey  of  a  house  by  scaling  the  spout,  in  place  of 
using  the  staircase.  But  the  point  is  that  it  is  because  of 
the  recent  effects  of  glaciation  that  some  of  the  hills  can  be 
made  to  ofier  difficulties  to  those  in  search  of  them. 

The  matter  may  be  illustrated  by  reference  to  the  conditions 
exhibited  by  Ben  Nevis  (Plate  XXVIIL).  This,  the  highest  of 
our  British  hills,  is  fundamentally  a  mere  mountain  stump, 
offering,  by  one  route,  so  few  difficulties  in  the  ascent  that  a 
motor-car  has  reached  the  summit  plateau,  though  scarcely 
in  what  one  would  describe  as  a  functional  condition.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  precipices  which  flank  its  huge  corries  offer 
rock  cUmbs  of  great  difficulty,  and  even  the  ordinary  tourist, 
who  can  employ,  if  not  a  motor-car,  at  least  a  pony  for  the 
journey  up,  may  enjoy  from  the  top  minor  thrills  in  the 
contemplation  from  above  of  the  great  crags  and  the  snow- 
filled  gulUes,  for  Ben  Nevis  keeps  some  of  its  snow  in  sheltered 
places  throughout  all  ordinary  seasons. 

On  the  way  down  also  the  tourist  may  note  an  admirable 


258  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

example,  on  a  small  scale,  of  an  ice-smoothed  watershed, 
for  the  Httle  loch  called  Meall  an  t'Suidhe  occupies  a  flat 
saddle,  resembling  on  a  small  scale  the  saddles  which  form 
the  great  Alpine  passes,  and  though  it  now  drains  to  the 
north,  its  position  is  such  that  one  would  expect  it  to  drain 
to  the  south.  Innumerable  examples  of  the  same  land  of 
thing,  on  varying  scales,  are  to  be  found  all  over  the  Highlands, 
for  the  roads  and  railways  nearly  all  take  advantage  of  such 
planed-down  cols,  where  the  actual  watershed  is  often  due 
to  the  cone  laid  down  by  a  lateral  stream,  debouching  on  the 
nearly  level  ground  at  the  summit  of  the  pass  (see  p.  309). 

Not  very  far  from  Ben  Nevis  also  one  may  see  in  the  famous 
parallel  roads  of  Glen  Eoy  the  remains  of  a  condition  which 
still  exists  in  the  Alps.  These  curious  terraces  mark  old 
lake  levels,  for  the  outlet  of  the  Eoy  valley  was  blocked  by 
ice,  and  the  water  dammed  back  in  this  way  formed  a  lake, 
the  lake  level  being  determined  by  that  of  the  possible  outlet 
at  any  period,  i.e.  by  that  of  the  lowest  col  not  blocked  by 
ice.  This  was  not  always  the  same,  and  thus  the  lake  water 
stood  at  difierent  heights  at  different  periods,  the  '  roads  ' 
marking  the  levels  at  which  it  stood  for  a  long  period  of 
time.  In  the  Alps  the  same  phenomenon  is  exemphfied  in 
the  Marjelensee,  which  periodically  fills  and  empties.  It 
forms  in  a  side  valley  which  opens  into  that  in  which  the 
Aletsch  glacier  lies,  and  the  glacier  thus  prevents  the  escape 
of  the  water  of  the  lateral  valley.  What  may  be  described 
as  a  later  stage  in  the  same  process  is  seen  in  the  Allee  Blanche, 
the  valley  which  hes  on  the  south  (Italian)  side  of  Mont 
Blanc.  Here  the  Lac  de  Combal,  now  in  process  of  fiUing 
up,  is  formed  by  the  blocking  of  a  valley  owing  to  the  moraine 
which  the  Miage  glacier  has  spread  out  in  front  of  its  own 
snout.  In  these  cases  therefore  so  far  is  it  from  being  true  that 
it  is  enough  to  see  the  Highlands  without  seeing  the  Alps, 
the  truth  is  rather  that  one  cannot  understand  the  Highlands 
without   having  seen   the  Alps.     Further,   as   the   Eastern 


I'LATK  XXVH 


\ie\v  on  the  island  of  Anan,  with  Holy  Ishvuil  in  the 
(listiuice,  showing  a  part  of  the  island  where  dissection 
of  the  surface  is  not  obvious. 


HIGHLAND  WEATHER  259 

Alps  show  better  than  the  Western  that  stage  of  corrie 
glaciers  which  seems  to  have  been  so  important  in  moulding 
the  Highlands,  they  should  be  specially  studied  by  those 
who  wish  to  understand  Highland  conditions. 

We  shall  not  attempt  here  to  describe  the  chief  beauty 
spots  of  the  Highlands.  Information  in  regard  to  these 
is  easily  obtained,  and  the  hints  given  should  enable  the 
tourist  to  concentrate  attention  upon  the  subjects  of  most 
geographical  interest.  But  a  few  general  matters  must  be 
considered. 

First,  in  regard  to  the  season  of  the  year  to  be  chosen  for 
the  visit — in  June  one  has  long,  light  nights,  with  no  true 
darkness,  and  greater  freedom  of  movement  than  during  the 
shooting  season.  There  is  also  a  reasonable  probability  of 
fine  weather  then,  but  southerners  should  remember  that 
June  is  spring  in  the  Highlands  ;  in  the  earlier  part  of  the 
month  cold  is  to  be  expected,  and  there  may  be  still  a  good 
deal  of  snow  on  the  higher  mountains.  The  more  fertile 
parts,  especially  Perthshire,  show  in  this  month  all  the 
beauties  of  an  English  spring. 

August  is  hkely  to  be  wet,  and  here,  as  elsewhere,  is  the 
most  crowded  month.  In  September  the  weather  is  on  the 
average  drier  and  the  beauty  of  colouring — the  dying  heather, 
the  gorgeous  yellow  and  brown  of  the  fading  bracken,  the 
glow  of  the  scarlet  rowans  against  their  own  yellowing  leaves, 
with  the  blue  of  the  blue-bells  and  the  purple  of  the  scabious 
as  relieving  notes — is  at  its  height.  At  this  time  of  year,  in 
a  favourable  season,  there  is  a  beauty  and  a  charm  in  the 
Highlands  which  is  not  perhaps  appreciated  as  it  should  be. 
Even  so  relatively  commonplace  a  stretch  of  road  as  that 
from  Fort  WilUam  to  Ballachulish,  on  a  still  September 
day,  is,  to  the  author's  mind,  far  more  beautiful  than  the 
famous  Corniche  road  in  the  Riviera.  The  loch  and  the  sky 
are  no  doubt  of  a  less  intense  blue,  but  where  does  one  get 
on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  so  satisfying  a  breadth 


260  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

of  colour  as  that  of  the  uniform  moor  vegetation,  where  such 
sudden  and  unexpected  charm  as  each  Uttle  burn  displays 
when,  with  its  fringe  of  trees,  it  dashes  through  the  rocks 
of  its  tiny  gorge  on  its  way  to  the  still  inlet  ?  Surely  also 
that  fine  inlet,  broad  enough  for  wonderful  colour  effects, 
especially  as  the  tide  swings  this  way  or  that,  yet  narrow 
enough  to  add  the  charm  of  distant  hills  and  moorland 
slopes  to  those  near  at  hand,  has  a  beauty  which  the  hmitless, 
tideless  sea  has  only  in  its  bays.  If  the  villages  also  cannot 
show  the  wealth  of  exotic  vegetation  of  the  villas  on  the 
Inland  Sea,  yet  even  here  the  mildness  of  the  cHmate  is  shown 
by  the  evergreens,  the  fuchsias,  the  flowering  shrubs,  even 
the  roses  of  the  gardens.  So  far  to  the  north,  so  near  the 
highest  mountain  we  have  to  boast  of,  would  one  have 
expected  so  varied  a  Hst  of  charms  ? 

Finally,  to  know  the  Highlands  well  one  must  visit  them 
also  in  winter,  when  their  hills  are  for  months  crowned  with 
snow,  and  the  low  clouds  hanging  over  them  give  height  and 
mystery.  If  one  happens  to  be  favoured  with  bright  frosty 
weather — a  somewhat  infrequent  occurrence — the  hills  have 
in  winter  a  charm  which  equals,  if  it  does  not  surpass,  that 
of  the  Alps.  The  days  are  so  short — one  leaves  the  hotel 
in  the  dark  of  the  morning  and  returns  to  it  in  the  gloom  of 
early  afternoon— that  the  few  hours  in  the  bright  sunshine 
and  the  crisp  air  on  the  hill  seem  to  shine  hke  jewels  in  their 
dark  setting.  To  be  off  the  hill  before  it  is  dark  is  the  highest 
ambition  of  the  winter  cUmber,  and  then  one  must  stumble, 
useless  ice-axe  in  hand,  over  the  puddles  on  the  homeward 
track  by  the  aid  of  the  precarious  light  of  an  Alpine  lantern. 
But  this  darkness  seems  to  make  the  glow  of  the  achievement 
shine  the  brighter,  and  as  one  makes  out  the  faint  gleam  amid 
the  thicker  gloom  which  indicates  the  position  of  the  village, 
it  is  to  feel  convinced  that  the  people  there  have  dwelt  all 
day  long  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow,  while  for  those  who 
had  the  wisdom  to  seek  the  mountains  a  great  Ught  shone. 


HIGHLAND  HOTELS  261 

But  there  are  other  days,  it  must  be  admitted,  when  one 
approaches  the  hotel  and  the  hope  of  tea  with  different 
feehngs  !  Days  when  those  who  are  troubled  with  a  conscience 
debate  all  the  long  homeward  way  whether  or  not  it  is  justifi- 
able to  drip  on  the  drawing-room  carpet  for  a  period  long 
enough  to  permit  of  the  drinking  of  at  least  three  cups  of 
tea,  or  whether  good-breeding  demands  that  the  consumption 
of  that  much-needed  beverage  should  be  postponed  until 
such  time  as  one  has  ceased  to  play  to  the  hfe  the  r61e  of 
a  half-drowned  kitten. 

To  put  the  matter  in  plainer  words,  you  may,  on  a  winter 
visit,  have  practically  continuous  rain,  and  then  the  gloom 
on  the  hill  will  be  even  greater  than  that  in  the  valley. 
Further,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  the  uninitiated,  the  late 
winter  offers  less  probabihty  of  suitable  climbing  weather 
than  the  ear  her  part.  Sometimes  there  is  superb  winter 
weather  in  October  ;  it  may  be  hoped  for  in  November, 
December  or  even  January.  February  and  March  are  less 
hopeful,  and  both  the  latter  month  and  April  are  often  very 
stormy,  and  the  snow  is  hkely  to  be  deeper,  softer,  and  to 
offer  greater  obstacles  than  earUer  in  the  season. 

One  other  word — as  compared  with  the  Alps  the  Highlands 
suffer  greatly  from  the  imperfect  adaptation  of  their  inhabi- 
tants to  the  art  and  craft  of  hotel-keeping.  This  is  partly 
due  to  the  ferocious  individualism  of  the  Scot,  which  makes 
the  rendering  of  personal  services  to  others  for  money  a 
matter  abhorrent.  In  the  Alps  one  pays  guides  relatively 
highly,  for  each  individual  guide  has  had,  among  other  things, 
to  get  over  the  natural  human  fear  of  danger  and  of  high 
places.  One  pays  the  Scotch  hotel-keeper  highly,  not  because 
of  what  he  gives,  but  because  he  has  had  to  overcome  his 
native  reluctance  to  serving  strangers.  The  fact  that  a 
large  part  of  the  Highlands  is  given  up  to  sport,  together 
with  the  results  to  which  we  have  already  alluded,  also 
brings  about  an  inflation  of  prices.     A  sportsman  in   the 


262  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

Highlands  is  by  definition  a  man  of  considerable  means, 
and  in  some  of  the  Highland  hotels,  if  the  visitors  are  not  all 
owners  or  tenants  of  deer  forests  or  grouse  moors,  they  are 
expected,  like  Mrs.  Blimber  in  a  somewhat  parallel  case,  at 
least  to  pretend  that  they  are.  Further,  the  fact  that 
sportsman  do  not  visit  the  country  in  the  depths  of  winter 
renders  it  often  difficult  to  get  accommodation  then,  except 
as  an  '  obhgement '  and  at  a  tariff  which  must  limit  the 
number  of  guests. 

The  writer  has  an  old-time  recollection  of  a  winter  day  with 
a  climbing  party,  which  began  with  getting  up  in  the  cold 
darkness  of  some  impossible  hour,  followed  by  a  journey  by 
train  to  a  hotel  whose  manager  had  been  previously  warned 
of  the  arrival  of  a  breakfastless  party.     One  hour  and  ten 
minutes  that  party  waited,  with  what  patience  they  could, 
in  a  chilly  parlour,  while  the  leisurely  staff  concocted  break- 
fast, finely  served  at  8.30  with  an  air  of  deep  injury  at  the 
untimely    hour.     Among    various    suggestions    thrown    out, 
with  due  humiUty  and  modesty,  during  that  interminable 
period  of  waiting,  was  one  that  any  form  of  breakfast  would 
be   acceptable,   however  simple.     But   this   suggestion  was 
very  coldly  received  by  the  manager,  who  said  that  it  should 
never  be  said  that  a  party  coming  to  his  house  could  not  get 
a  proper  meal !     What  he  meant  was  that  he  would  serve 
no  meal  for  which  his  Calvinistic  conscience  would  not  permit 
him  to  charge  half-a-crown,  a  sum  which  each  member  of  that 
unhappy  party  duly  paid  up,  as  soon  as  its  more  impatient 
members  had  permitted  the  others  to  swallow  a  few  mouthfuls 
of  food  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  fevered  calculation  of 
times  and  distances.    But  it  was  a  good  day,  with  fine  practice 
in  step-cutting  up  a  short  iced  slope  !     In  the  Alps  in  the 
following  summer  a  cheerful  but  weary  Wirthin  in  a  mountain 
hut,   engaged  at  9  o'clock  at  night  in  supplying  suppers, 
accepted,  with  no  perceptible  diminution  of  her  cheerfulness, 
the  suggestion  that  she  should  supply  five  breakfasts  at 


I'LATK  X.WIII 


S.K.  Imttress  of  IJeii  Nevis,  a  (jiecipitous  giaiiiti'  ilitf  wliicli  owes 
its  present  shape  to  the  effects  of  the  Ice  Age. 

(I'hotu  by  the  Geologiiul  Suicey.) 


HIGHLAND  BIRDS  AND  MAMMALS  263 

three  o'clock  the  following  morning.  The  outlay  for  each 
breakfast, — they  were  simple,  it  is  true — including  the  tip, 
amounted  only  to  coppers.  The  two  incidents  indicate 
that  there  are  other  differences,  besides  the  geological  ones, 
between  the  two  regions. 

There  are  indeed  those  who  say  that  it  is  possible  to  save 
the  fare  to  the  Alps  out  of  the  difference  between  necessary 
hotel  bills  there  and  in  the  Highlands.  For,  be  it  remembered, 
while  in  the  more  frequented  parts  of  the  Alps  the  tourist 
may  pay  almost  anything — both  in  the  upward  and  down- 
ward direction — in  hotel  bills,  in  the  Highlands  the  locaUties 
where  he  has  a  choice  are  relatively  few,  and  the  prices  almost 
invariably  high  in  proportion  to  what  is  given. 

But  we  must  not  stop  on  this  note,  for  a  really  successful 
visit  to  the  Highlands,  in  winter  or  in  summer,  is  worth 
what  it  costs.  One  good  result  of  the  careful  game  preserva- 
tion also  we  must  mention.  At  least  in  winter  one  may  be 
almost  sure,  if  a  hill  of  any  height  is  chmbed,  of  seeing  the 
most  characteristic  animals  of  the  region.  Red  deer  are  abun- 
dant and  may  be  observed  at  close  quarters.  The  mountain 
hares,  pure  white  or  oddly  mottled  with  white  and  brown,  re- 
calling patches  of  snow  on  the  ground,  are  always  in  evidence. 
Among  the  birds  pure  white  ptarmigan  with  their  curious 
feathered  feet,  grouse,  blackcock — to  name  only  those  most 
frequently  seen,  are  rarely  wanting,  and  one  should  not  fail 
to  note  that  on  Scottish  mountains  even  the  grouse  cry — 
'  Go  back,  go  back  !  ' 

References.  A  complete  list  of  books  on  the  geology  and  geography 
of  the  Scottish  Highlands  would  be  long.  We  limit  ourselves  here  to  a 
few  t3T)ical  examples.  The  student  will  naturally  begin  with  Sir 
Archibald  Geikie's  Scenery  of  Scotland,  third  edition,  1903,  and  will 
use  with  it  the  same  author's  Geological  Map  of  Scotland,  with  descrip- 
tive text,  second  edition,  1909,  as  well  as  the  separate  sheets  of  the 
Geological  Survey  and  the  Memoirs  which  accompany  them,  especi- 
ally the  important  memoir  on  The  Oeological  Structure  of  the  North 


264  THE  SCOTTISH  HIGHLANDS 

West  Highlands  (1907).  The  sheets  of  the  1-inch  Ordnance  Survey 
are  also  indispensable,  and  the  author's  small  handbook  called  Ordnance 
Survey  Maps  (1913)  may  be  of  some  use  in  the  study  of  these.  Bar- 
tholomew's Survey  Atlas  of  Scotland,  second  edition,  1912,  should  also 
be  consulted.  In  Vol.  l.  of  Murray  and  Pullar's  Bathymetrical  Survey 
of  the  Fresh-icater  Lochs  of  Scotland  (1910),  there  is  an  article  by  Drs. 
Peach  and  Home  on  the  Scottish  Lakes,  which  contains  much  inter- 
esting geographical  matter.  The  details  so  necessary  to  the  tourist 
may  be  sought  in  Baddeley's  Scotland,  two  parts,  1908,  or  in  the  Hand- 
hook  for  Travellers  in  Scotland,  edited  by  Penney,  ninth  edition  (1913). 
The  cUmber  shoidd  consult  the  pages  of  the  Scottish  Mountainetring 
Club  Journal  and  the  Club  Guide,  and  many  useful  articles  will  be 
found  in  the  volumes  of  the  Scottish  Geographical  Magazine ;  among 
these  special  mention  may  be  made  of  Sir  Archibald  Geikie's  article  on 
the  'History  of  the  Geography  of  Scotland'  (vol.  xxii.,  1906).  For 
more  general  points  Mackinder's  Britain  and  the  British  Seas,  second 
edition,  1907,  should  be  used. 


CHAPTER  XX 

CITY   AND   PLAIN   IN   FRANCE 

'  The  busy  hum  of  men.' 

It  may  seem  that  in  the  chapters  immediately  preceding  we 
have  forgotten  that  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man, 
have  laid  too  much  stress  upon  physical  conditions,  too  httle 
upon  the  features  of  the  earth  considered  as  the  home  of 
man.  Let  us  rectify  this  error  by  a  consideration  of  the 
plains  of  France  which,  perhaps  more  than  those  of  any  other 
European  country,  show  the  attractive  influence  of  level 
fertile  land.  They  show  this  with  especial  clearness  owing 
to  the  alternation  of  upland  and  plain,  or,  more  accurately, 
owing  to  the  way  in  which  the  interrupted  high  ground 
encircles  the  lower,  so  that  just  as  the  streams  converge 
from  the  uplands  to  the  plains,  so  human  beings,  following 
the  natural  hues  of  communication,  drain  towards  the  lower 
ground,  and  estabhsh  there  their  towered  cities,  while  at 
the  same  time  the  gaps  in  the  ring  of  uplands  make  relations 
with  the  lands  beyond  them  easy. 

We  have  spoken  already  of  the  general  structure  of  France. 
The  accompanying  sketch-map  (Fig.  16)  summarises  the  facts 
already  given,  and  may  serve  as  a  basis  for  a  discussion  of  some 
of  the  facts  of  human  geography  in  the  country.  We  note 
that  the  original  land-mass  from  which  France  took  origin  is 
the  Central  Plateau,  composed  of  the  oldest  known  rocks 
(Archaean)  and  forming  the  nucleus  round  which  younger 
beds  were  laid  down.  Owing  to  its  isolation  and  to  the 
relatively  unfavourable  conditions,  it  is  to-day  not  densely 

2CJ 


266 


CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 


peopled,  and  its  characteristic  inhabitant  is  the  round- 
headed,  dour  Auvergnat,  the  antithesis  in  most  respects  of 
the  Hght-hearted  Frenchman  of  popular  tradition.     To  the 


MEDITERRANEAN  SEA 


Fio.  16. — Sketch-map  showing  the  structure  of  France. 

The  Central  Plateau  is  built  up  of  tlie  oldest  known  rocks  (Archajan) ; 
the  uplands  of  Cornwall,  Brittany,  the  Ardennes,  the  Vosges,  are 
fragments  of  the  originally  continuous  Armorican  chain,  while  the 
Jura,  Alps,  and  Pyrenees  arc  recent  folded  mountains.  Note  how  the 
structure  of  the  country  tends  to  cause  its  life  to  become  concentrated 
within  the  Basin  of  Paris,  while  at  the  same  time  giving  considerable 
independence  to  the  region  here  marked  as  Aquitaine,  and  to  the  plains 
of  the  Rhone  Valley  depression  (Provence,  etc.). 

north-west  and  north-east  of  this  central  massif,  but  separated 
from  it  by  what  have  been  once  and  again  arms  of  the  sea, 
lie  the  fragments  of  the  now  discontinuous  chains  of  moun- 


I'LA'IK  XXIX 


Canal  iu  Annecy,  one  of  tlie  Subalpine  towns  of  France.  The 
canals  communicate  with  the  lake,  the  town  being  placed  on 
the  plain  at  its  north  end. 


STRUCTURE  OF  FRANCE  267 

tains,  which  at  one  period  stretched  from  south-west  Ireland 
through  much  of  Central  Europe.  One  fragment  of  the 
chain  called^Armorican  forms  the  upland  region  of  Brittany, 
which,  as  the  sketch-map  shows,  is  structurally  continuous 
across  the  channel  with  the  plateau  of  Devonshire  and  Corn- 
wall. Another  fragment,  of  a  chain  of  similar  age  appears 
to  the  north-west  as  the'Ardennes,  while  the  Vosges,  as  we 
have  seen,  are  but  a  broken  fragment  of  a  dome  once  con- 
tinuous across  the  present  Rhine  valley  wdth  the  Black 
Forest  region  ;  this  dome  in  its  turn  is  a  fragment  of  a  broken 
chain  called  the  Variscan  mountains,  which  stretched  originally 
far  to  the  east.  These  fragments  of  the  Carboniferous 
mountain  chains,  then,  form  the  second  element  in  the 
structure  of  France.        .  ^^^ 

The  third  element  is  marginal  only.  The  Pyrenees,  the 
Jura,  the  Alps,  are  all,  as  we  have  repeatedly  emphasised, 
recent  folded  mountains  ;  they  advance  but  little  on  French 
soil  and  so  form  parts  of  its  boundary  rather  than  one  of  its 
constituent  elements.  The  towns  within  the  mountain  zone 
are  largely,  but  not  exclusively,  health  resorts.  We  have 
already  given  Annecy  (Plate  XXIX.)  as  an  example. 

Thus  we  have  outhned  the  skeleton  of  the  fair  land  of 
France.  Its  prosperity  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  water 
which  once  lapped  the  lower  slopes  of  the  uplands  and  moun- 
tains ahke  has  left  copious  deposits  of  silt,  sand,  gravel,  and 
so  forth,  which  have  hardened  into  the  rocks  which  now 
floor  the  lowlands.  If  we  may  continue  the  former  metaphor, 
France  is  not  a  gaunt  skeleton,  as  is,  for  example,  such  a 
region  as  the  western  Highlands  of  Scotland.  Her  outline 
is  due  to  the  underlying  bony  structure,  but  those  bones  are 
clothed  with  Uving  tissue.  , 

Let  us  turn  then  to  this  fourth  component  element,  the 
fertile  plains  which  feed  her  people.  More  than  once  the  sea 
broke  against  the  north-west  margin  of  her  central  mass, 
and  at  the  same  time  turned  Brittany  into  an  island.     With 


268  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 

the  withdrawal  of  that  sea  we  have  a  wide,  mostly  fertile, 
plain,  whose  centre  of  Ufe  is  now  Paris,  so  that  to  the  whole 
region  we  may  give  the  name  of  the  Basin  of  Paris.  Of  the 
characters  of  this  Basin  we  need  only  say  now  that  the  succes- 
sive incursions  of  the  sea  left  behind  first  Umestones  and 
clays  of  Jurassic  age,  then  Cretaceous  beds,  and  finally  the 
very  diverse  Tertiary  deposits,  of  which  some  were  laid  down 
in  lakes  (see  p.  278).  Let  us  note,  however,  in  more  detail,  the 
geographical  relations  of  the  Basin.  To  the  south-west  the 
Central  Plateau  advances  towards  the  uplands  of  Brittany, 
but  without  meeting  them.  To  the  gap  between  the  two  the 
name  of  the  Strait  of  Poitou  has  been  given — in  order  to 
indicate  that  the  belt  of  plain  here  is  due  to  the  former 
presence  of  the  sea,  that  is,  to  the  fact  that  Brittany  was 
once  an  island.  Here  then  no  notable  obstacle  prevents 
free  communication  between  the  Basin  of  Paris  and  the 
second  great  French  plain,  that  which  separates  the  Central 
Plateau  from  the  sea  to  the  west,  to  which,  by  extension, 
the  name  of  Aquitaine  may  be  given.  We  must  not  omit 
to  note  in  this  connection  that  the  relative  narrowness  of 
the  '  strait '  concentrates  roads,  railways  and  also  towns 
within  a  similarly  narrow  belt. 

Turn  next  to  the  south-east.  Here  a  somewhat  less  easy 
route — for  it  crosses  the  Cote'd'Or — enables  the  Basin  of  Paris 
to  communicate  with  the  long  narrow  belt  of  lowland  which 
fringes  the  valleys  of  the  Saone  and  the  Rhone.  This — the 
Cote  d'Or  Strait — has  been  of  enormous  importance  in  the 
history  of  France,  for  it  forms  the  most  direct  fine  of  com- 
munication between  the  Basin  of  Paris  and  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  that  is,  between  the  civiUsations  of  the  north  and  of  the 
south.     Its  centre  of  population  is  of  course  Dijon. 

Three  other  broad  belts  of  lowland  through  which  the  Basin 
can  communicate  with  neighbouring  lands  remain  to  be 
mentioned.  To  the  east  no  great  obstacle  prevents  free 
comjmiftication  via  Nancy  with  the  RhineL-vailey,  and  so 


THE  BASIN  OF  PAKIS  2G9 

with  Germany  and  Eastern  Europe.  Much  lower  and  easier 
is  the  belt  of  plain  which,  following  the  Une  of  the  Oise  and 
the  Sambre,  runs  north-east  and  so  permits  of  free  access 
to  Belgium  and  Holland,  or  conversely,  as  we  have  seen, 
permits  invasion  to  those  who  regard  not  treaties.  Finally, 
to  the  north-east,  across  the  sunken  Strait  of  Dover  and  the 
Channel,  free  communication  is  possible  with  the  plain  of 
Eastern  England,  the  narrow  belt  of  water  being  the  only 
notable  obstacle. 

Thus  the  Basin  of  Paris  is  the  heart  of  France  ;  upon  it 
converge  routes  and  therefore  influences  from  north,  south, 
east  and  west.  But  this  very  freedom  of  communication, 
if  it  makes  for  civiUsation,  brings  with  it  also  an  element 
of  risk.  It  was  not  by  chance  that  at  times  when  it  has 
seemed  as  though  France  as  a  world  power  was  in  its  death 
throes  the  government  has  taken  refuge  in  Bordeaux.  The 
plain  of  Aguitaine,  with  less  free  access  to  surrounding 
regions,  is  for  this  very  reason  somewhat  better  protected, 
and  if  it  cannot  provide  a  suitable  site  for  the  capital  of  a 
world-power,  yet  can  give  a  cradle — a  function  of  hmited 
but  yet  of  temporarily  great  importance. 

Let  us  note  in  a  word  or  two  the  significance  to  the  traveller 
of  to-day  of  the  various  routes  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
converge  upon  Paris.  The  Cote  d'Or  route,  as  we  saw  in 
Chapter  ii.,  carries  much  of  the  Swiss  traffic,  the  Riviera 
traffic,  and  a  considerable  part  of  the  Italian  traffic.  The 
traffic  from  the  south-west  of  France  and  from  Spain  passes 
through  Orleans,  and  thus  reaches  Paris  through  the  Strait 
of  Poitou.  To  the  north-east  a  number  of  routes  communi- 
cate with  England  across  the  plain,  so  that  the  traveller 
from  England  may  land  at  Calais,  Boulogne,  Dieppe  or 
Le  Havre  as  he  pleases.  The  Oise  valley  leads  through 
Brussels  to  the  north;  and  we  have  already  discussed  (p.  30) 
the  direct  route  to  the  north-east  which  leads  the  traveller 
from  Paris  through  Nancy  to  the  Rhine  valley. 


270  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 

Thus,  owing  to  the  pecuUar  advantages  of  its  position, 
Paris  is  the  centre  of  the  railway  system  of  France,  and 
therefore  the  centre  of  its  hfe,  to  an  extent  beyond  that  to 
which  London — though  a  greater  city — is  the  centre  of  the 
railway  traffic  of  Great  Britain.  This  is  a  fact  which  will 
be  borne  in  upon  the  traveller  who  aspires  to  know  something 
of  the  remoter  parts  of  the  country,  or  even  upon  him  who 
attempts  cross-country  journeys.  A  curious  httle  example 
is  to  be  found  in  the  badness  of  the  service  between  places 
so  near  together  as  Rouen  and  Chartres.  Chartres  commands 
a  river  valley  which  drains  direct  to  Rouen.  In  earlier  days 
the  communication  between  the  two  towns,  as  one  would 
expect  from  their  relative  position,  was  easy  ;  a  Roman  road 
connected  the  two  places,  and  at  the  time  when  the  great 
cathedral  was  built  the  inhabitants  of  Rouen  were  not  only 
zealous  in  the  promotion  of  the  work,  but  are  said  to  have 
actually  participated  in  it  in  large  numbers.  The  impression 
left  upon  the  tourist  who  travels  by  train  between  the  two 
towns  to-day  is  that  a  period  of  centuries  has  elapsed  between 
the  time  when  he  quits  the  dehcate  tracery  of  the  cathedral 
and  that  at  which  he  sees  the  busy  city  by  the  Seine.  Paris, 
greedy  of  influence  and  power,  tends  to  suppress,  so  far  as 
she  can,  direct  intercommunication  between  her  daughter 
cities,  a  fact  well  seen  in  her  converging  railway  hues. 

To  what  geological  causes  does  the  Paris  Basin,  with  Paris 
as  its  natural  centre,  owe  its  attractive  influence  upon  routes 
and  population  ?  To  answer  this  question  we  must  take  a 
general  survey  of  the  region.  The  fundamental  fact  is  that 
this  Basin,  hke  that  of  London  and  of  Belgium,  is  a  region 
which,  in  geologically  recent  times,  but  at  various  periods, 
has  been  flooded  by  the  sea,  and  in  it  sea-water  has  laid 
down  a  variety  of  beds,  mostly  forming  soft,  easily  decom- 
posed rocks.  Many  of  these  rocks  break  up  to  give  rise  to 
fertile  soil,  but  at  the  same  time  they  change  in  character 
over  short  distances,  and  thus  yield  a  variety  of  types  of 


WEALTH  OF  THE  PARIS  BASIN  271 

landscape  and  of  products — a  condition  directly  favourable 
to  human  activity. 

The  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  parts  of  the  Central 
Plateau  of  France,  are  unfavourable  to  human  hfe  not  only 
because  they  consist  of  old,  hard  rocks,  decomposing  to  form 
at  best  a  thin,  poor  soil,  but  also  because,  owing  to  the  pro- 
longed period  through  which  they  have  been  exposed  to  the 
denuding  forces,  only  rocks  of,  roughly  speaking,  few  types 
have  been  left.  The  great  advantage  of  the  rocks  of  the 
Basin  of  Paris,  as  also  of  those  of  the  London  Basin,  is  that 
they  are  varied  enough  to  supply  many  different  needs. 
Here  we  have  calcareous  rocks  giving  admirable  building 
material ;  here  cement-yielding  beds  ;  here  fertile  loams  ; 
here  forest-bearing  gravels  ;  here  dry  limestone  slopes  well 
fitted  for  the  vine,  and  so  forth,  through  most  of  the  gamut 
of  human  needs.  Most,  but  not  all,  for  that  special  condition 
which  has,  within  the  last  century,  brought  fabulous  wealth 
to  parts  of  England  is  only  scantily  represented  on  the  margin 
of  the  Basin  of  Paris.  In  other  words,  only  to  the  north  does 
coal  occur,  and  since  the  industrial  revolution  coalfields  in 
the  opinion  of  the  world  have  been  a  more  desirable  possession 
than  the  golden  wheat  lands  which  have  always  been  France's 
pride.  The  fact  that  her  coal  is  not  very  abundant,  and  not 
very  accessible,  has  thus  diminished  in  recent  years  the 
relative  importance  of  Paris  and  of  France. 

The  geological  characters  of  the  Basin  of  Paris  must  next 
be  noted.  We  have  spoken  of  the  general  similarity  between 
it  and  the  London  Basin,  for  both  contain  rocks  of  the  period 
called  Tertiary,  while  the  surrounding  beds  are  Secondary. 
But  in  Tertiary  times  the  two  Basins  were  apparently  not 
continuous.  Across  what  is  now  the  Strait  of  Dover,  it 
seems  clear,  the  London  Basin  was  once  continuous  with 
that  of  Belgium,  but  this  large  Basin  was  separated  from  the 
arm  of  the  sea  in  which  the  Paris  beds  were  laid  down  by  a 
ridge  which  represents  a  buried  part  of  the  Ardennes  upland. 


272  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 

At  the  north-western  and  western  edge  of  the  Ardennes 
region  we  find  coal  measures,  the  coal  further  west  being 
buried  beneath  younger  beds,  so  that  Belgian  coal  is  worked 
at  great  depths.  The  same  beds  are  continued  across  the 
Strait  of  Dover,  for  coal  occurs  in  Kent,  also  at  great  depths. 
This  hne  along  which  coal  occurs,  then,  represents  the  old 
ridge  which  once  separated  the  Tertiary  Basin  of  Belgium 
and  London  from  that  of  Paris,  and  the  present  undulating 
country  of  Artois,  which  forms  the  boundary  of  France  and 
Belgium,  is  thus  a  geological  as  well  as  a  pohtical  division 
line.  It  is  the  fact  that  the  two  hues  do  not  exactly  coincide 
that  gives  North  France  coalfields,  for  the  Belgian  beds 
extend  beyond  the  pohtical  frontier,  and  are  worked  within 
French  territory,  with  the  result  that  Lille,  Roubaix  and  the 
surrounding  towns  have  a  manufacturing  industry. 

We  have  thus  demarcated  the  Basin  of  Paris  from  that  of 
London  and  Belgium — let  us  note  next  its  special  features. 
These  are  fundamentally  very  simple  (see  Fig.  17).  The 
Basin,  we  have  seen,  is  incompletely  ringed  by  uplands.  On 
travelhng  from  the  uplands  inwards  towards  Paris  as  centre 
one  crosses  beds  which  become  progressively  younger. 
Outermost,  resting  on  the  old  rocks  of  the  uplands,  comes  a 
ring  of  Jurassic  beds,  Hke  those  which  run  in  a  broad  belt 
through  England  from  north-east  Yorkshire  to  Dorsetshire. 
Next  comes  the  chalk,  like  that  of  southern  England.  Finally, 
forming  the  centre  of  the  Basin  are  Tertiary  beds — loams, 
sands,  gravels,  hmestones.  On  the  seaward  side  the  Jurassic 
ring  is  incomplete,  so  that  the  traveller  from  England,  by 
whatever  route  he  approaches  Paris,  crosses  the  chalk,  which 
forms  the  characteristic  scenery  near  the  coast,  save  where 
limited  areas  of  Jurassic  beds  appear. 

But  this  arrangement  does  not  represent  the  primitive 
one.  It  will  be  noted  that  the  Jurassic  beds  are  exposed 
close  to  the  uplands.  Now  it  is  just  in  this  position  that 
the  rivers  have  the  greatest  erosive  force,  for  here  their 


STRUCTURE  OF  NORTH  FRANCE 


273 


valleys  are  steeper  than  elsewhere.  The  present  arrange- 
ment is  therefore  a  result  of  erosion  ;  the  oldest  beds  are 
exposed  close  to  the  hills  because  here  wear  and  tear  has 
been  greatest,  the  youngest  beds  remain  towards  the  centre 


Fiu.  17. — Geological  sketch-map  of  Northern  France  to  show  the 
structure  of  the  Basin  of  Paris. 

(1)  Clays,  limestones  and  sands  forming  the  Tertiary  beds  of  Hamp- 
shire and  the  Paris  IJasin.  (2)  Chalk,  grits  and  clays  forming  the 
Cretaceous  beds,  (o)  Oolitic  limestones,  etc.,  of  Jurassic  Age.  (4) 
Ancient  rock.s  of  the  Central  Plateau,  Brittan}',  Cornwall,  and  Devon, 
crystalline  or  sedimentary. 

because  here  erosion  has  been  least.  If  the  meaning  of  this 
statement  has  been  grasped  it  will  be  easy  to  realise  how  it 
is  that  the  harder  strata  of  the  Tertiary  deposits  present 
escarpments  on  their  outer  margins.  The  process  of  strip- 
is 


274  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FKANCE 

ping  ofi  surface  beds  takes  place  from  the  periphery  towards 
the  centre,  and  therefore  while  the  rivers  flow  from  the 
margin  to  the  centre,  the  escarpments  face — not  towards 
the  centre — but  outwards  to  the  periphery.  In  detail  these 
escarpments  are  often  important  in  connection  with  the 
site  of  towns.  In  approaching  the  centre  of  the  Paris  Basin 
from  the  north  or  east  they  give  the  Tertiary  beds  the  appear- 
ance of  forming  a  scarped  island  rising  from  the  surrounding 
chalk. 

There  is  still  another  interesting  result  of  the  Basin  arrange- 
ment. Broadly  speaking,  fertility  in  the  Paris  Basin  increases 
from  the  margin  towards  the  centre,  and  the  marginal 
Jurassic  beds  especially  tend  to  produce  the  accessories  of 
civihsation,  such  as  wood  and  wine,  rather  than  prime  necessities, 
such  as  wheat.  But  the  Basin  arrangement  and  the  direction 
of  flow  of  the  rivers  promotes  easy  communication,  and 
therefore  large  towns  tend  to  arise  where  navigable  waters 
meet,  for  these  waters  have  been  flowing  through  districts 
yielding  varied  products.  Paris  is  fundamentally  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Marne  and  the  Seine,  while  the  Oise  unites  with 
the  main  stream  not  far  below  the  town.  One  should  not 
omit  to  notice  also  that  all  the  more  important  tributaries 
join  the  Seine  above  Paris.  Thus  it  is  the  centre  towards 
which  the  varied  products  of  the  Basin,  themselves  deter- 
mined by  the  very  varied  rocks  represented,  drain  by  the 
natural  routes  of  the  rivers,  and  in  addition  to  this  initial 
importance  it  has  the  wider  one,  due  to  that  convergence  of 
great  routes  of  which  we  have  already  spoken. 

One  should  note  also  that  it  is  only  by  making  a  sudden 
turn  that  the  Loire  avoids  the  Seine  and  the  Paris  Basin. 
It  seems  tolerably  certain  that  at  an  earher  stage  it  was 
one  of  the  factors  of  a  greater  Seine,  and  the  sharp  bend  to 
the  west  was  a  later  development.  Fundamentally  the 
advantages  of  position  which  Orleans  possesses  over  Paris 
are  not  very  great,  or  were  not  very  great  until  the  develop- 


SITUATION  OF  AMIENS  275 

ment  of  the  northern  countries.  Like  the  Seine  also,  the 
Loire  has  its  series  of  historic  towns  determined  in  similar 
fashion  by  the  junction  of  zones  of  diflerent  structure  and 
products. 

To  discuss  in  detail  the  raison  d'etre  of  the  important 
towns  of  the  Paris  Basin  would  be  impossible,  but  we  shall 
take  as  types  and  examples  the  three  great  cathedral  towns 
which  attract  especially  the  attention  of  the  tourist — Amiens, 
Reims  and  Chartres. 

Let  us  begin  with  Amiens,  which  is  nearest  to  us,  and  is 
placed  in  Picardy.  The  first  point  is  that  it  hes  in  the  chalk 
belt,  but  the  chalk  is  not  the  determining  factor  in  the  mode 
of  land  utilisation  practised.  This  is  because  it  does  not  crop 
out  at  the  surface,  but  is  covered  by  an  often  thick  bed  of  a 
loamy  soil  similar  to  the  loess  of  which  we  spoke  in  Chapter  vi., 
which  is  easy  to  plough,  fertile,  and  forms  nearly  level  plains. 
This  soil  has  for  centuries  borne  crops  of  wheat ;  now  sugar 
beet  has  become  also  important.  But  though  the  direct 
importance  of  the  underlying  chalk  is  not  very  great,  indirectly 
it  affects  human  life  markedly.  The  loess — like  loam — is 
highly  permeable  to  water,  and  this  is  also  true  of  the  chalk 
beneath,  so  that  the  region  tends  to  suffer  from  want  of 
water,  and  isolated  habitations  arc  rare,  because  a  domestic 
water  supply  is  often  only  obtainable  from  deep  wells,  costly 
to  dig,  and  therefore  not  constructed  by  isolated  families. 
Local  variations,  especially  the  outcrop  of  sands,  attract 
villages,  and  the  presence  of  trees  around  them  emphasises 
the  presence  of  water-bearing  beds. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  the  rainfall  is  considerable 
in  this  oceanic  margin  of  France.  The  water  absorbed  by 
the  porous  chalk  must  sooner  or  later  come  to  the  surface. 
As  in  other  similar  regions,  therefore,  the  rivers,  instead  of 
beginning  in  small  trickles  of  water,  spring  full-formed  from 
the  hillsides,  and  run  in  wade  valleys,  far  larger  than  the 
present  streams.     Of   such   the  Somme,  on  which  Amiens 


276 


CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 


stands,  is  an  excellent  example.  Owing  to  the  way  in  which 
it  is  fed  by  springs  from  the  chalk  it  is  extraordinarily  con- 
stant in  its  flow,  a  fact  taken  advantage  of  in  the  extensive 
use  of  water-power  at  Amiens.  Further,  the  present  stream- 
bed  has  a  very  gentle  slope,  and  the  river  meanders  over  the 
wide,  flat  valley  floor,  dividing  into  many  branches  as  it 
passes  through  Amiens,  and  causing  the  marshy  valley  to 
offer  the  maximum  of  contrast  to  the  dry  hill  slopes  above. 
The  origin  of  the  valley  marshes  is  interesting.  No  chalk 
is  absolutely  pure,  and  the  water,  acting  through  countless 
generations  upon  the  rock,  has  dissolved  away  the  carbonate 
of  hme  but  left  a  clay-hke  deposit,  which  has  been  carried 
by  tributaries  and  spread  over  the  valley, 
thus  caulking,  as  it  were,  the  natural 
fissures  of  the  chalk  which  forms  its 
floor. 

In  an  earher  era,  apparently  during 
an  interglacial  period,  when  melting  ice 
to  the  north  supphed  the  rivers  with 
abundant  water,  a  larger  Somme  carried 
down  great  deposits  of  gravel,  gravel 
which  the  present  constant  sluggish 
stream  could  not  move.  At  this  period 
Early  Stone  Age  man  lived  in  the  dis- 
trict, and  his  rehcs  are  found  in  those  old 
river  gravels.  The  stone  implements 
found  here,  instead  of  being  merely 
lozenge-shaped,  Hke  those  of  the  epoch 
immediately  preceding  (Chellean),  were 
sharpened  at  the  extremity.  Such  implements  are  called 
Acheulean  (Fig.  18),  from  the  fact  of  their  being  found  near 
the  Abbey  of  St.  Acheul  at  Amiens,  and  the  sightseer  may 
find  some  additional  interest  in  the  thought  that  here  some 
unknown  genius  hved  and  died,  to  whom  in  his  daily  warfare 
with  rhinoceros,  elephant  and  cave  bear — a  sadly  unequal 


Fio.  18.— A  Stone  Age 
implement  of  the 
Acheulean  type,  show- 
ing the  characteristic 
sharpening  of  the 
point. 

(After  Butld-lUcinn.) 


SITE  OF  AMIENS  277 

struggle — there  came  the  brilliant  idea  that  a  sharpened  stone 
had  more  penetrating  force  than  a  blunt  one. 

The  reason  which  determined  the  actual  site  of  Amiens 
on  the  river  Somme  is  not  perfectly  clear,  but  it  is  possible 
that  at  the  time  of  its  foundation  the  tides  came  up  to  near 
this  spot,  so  that  it  may  be  an  example  of  a  city  at  a  tidal 
limit  (c/.  London,  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  etc.).  Another  advan- 
tage which  it  possesses  is  that  the  valley  here  has  an  outcrop 
of  firm  rock  on  which  the  cathedral  is  built. 

Apart  from  its  cathedral,  the  tourist  will  find  in  his  survey 
of  Amiens  several  points  of  geographical  interest.  Its  2)dtes 
de  canard  recall  the  fact  that  the  marshy  valley  still  lodges 
much  game,  and  remind  us  of  what  has  been  said  above  of 
the  clay  deposit  on  its  floor.  Similarly  the  market  gardens 
surrounded  by  water,  which  are  one  of  the  sights  of  the  city, 
owe  their  existence  to  that  constant  flow  of  the  river  of  which 
we  have  already  spoken.  A  river  liable  to  periodic  inundation 
would  render  such  a  mode  of  land  utilisation  impossible. 
The  cotton  manufacturers  depend  partly  upon  water-power, 
partly  upon  the  ease  with  which  raw  material  can  be  imported, 
and  the  relative  proximity  of  coal  (p.  271).  The  cathedral 
may  be  said  to  owe  its  origin  to  the  wealth  produced  by 
the  cornfields  of  the  loam-covered  plateau.  In  brief,  the 
position  of  Amiens  is  due  to  the  fact  that  in  a  fertile  country 
where  water  is  deficient  large  settlements  must  be  placed  in 
river  valleys.  In  this  case  the  width  of  the  Somme  valley 
has  been  a  specially  favouring  cause. 

Reims  as  regards  situation  affords  a  marked  contrast,  for 
the  stream  upon  which  it  stands  is  insignificant,  though  it  is 
connected  by  canal  with  the  Aisne  and  the  Marne.  The 
importance  of  the  town  hes  in  the  fact  that  it  is  situated  near 
the  junction  of  the  wine-producing  chalk  of  the  Champagne 
country,  and  the  varied  Tertiary  beds,  which  produce  wood 
on  the  sands,  excellent  building  material  (cf.  the  cathedral) 
from  the  calcareous  strata,  and  the  possibihty  of  a  great 


278  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 

variety  of  crops.  Even  more  than  this,  however,  Reims 
is  a  crossing-point  of  routes.  Till  it  was  in  a  sense  suppressed 
by  Paris  it  lay  on  the  natural  route  between  Champagne, 
Burgundy,  the  Middle  Rhine  valley  and  the  Low  Countries, 
all  regions  with  special  products  upon  which  a  system  of 
exchange  could  be  based.  The  cathedral  here,  therefore, 
may  be  said  to  be  built  from  the  profits  of  trade. 

The  vicinity  of  Chartres,  on  the  other  hand,  shows  a 
certain  resemblance  to  the  region  round  Amiens.  The  town 
is  the  natural  centre  of  the  fertile  region  of  Beauce,  whose 
grain  brought  the  local  wealth  which  enabled  the  cathedral 
to  be  built.  Beauce  is  floored  by  hmestone  beds — a  resem- 
blance to  Picardy — but  the  limestone  is  here  of  Tertiary 
date,  having  been  deposited  in  a  lake  at  that  period, 
the  lake  into  which  the  Loire  once  drained.  Fortunately, 
however,  as  in  Picardy,  though  to  a  less  extent,  a  cover- 
ing of  loam  hes  upon  the  limestone,  and  gives  here  also 
great  local  fertility.  The  land  is  thus  abundantly  grain- 
producing,  and,  as  in  Picardy,  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  water 
causes  the  habitations  to  cluster  about  special  areas,  separated 
by  wide,  uniform  wheat-fields.  Around  this  fertile  region 
are  belts  where  an  almost  sterile  clay  rests  upon  chalk,  and 
the  wheat-lands  then  give  place  to  forests,  e.g.  in  the  direction 
of  Evreux  and  Blois.  To  the  inhabitants  indeed  the  term 
Beauce  imphes  grain-producing,  and  the  name  is  applied  in 
a  fashion  which  on  the  map  appears  erratic,  to  villages  where 
this  type  of  soil  prevails.  In  essence  the  region  is  a  plain. 
Beneath  the  thin  layer  of  loam  material  for  building  and  for 
road-making  is  easily  obtainable,  communication  is  easy, 
but  the  uniformity,  the  absence  of  trees  and  of  streams,  give 
monotony  to  the  landscape.  But  just  as  the  clays  to  the 
north-west  and  west  bear  timber,  so  also  do  the  sands  to  the 
south  in  the  vicinity  of  Orleans.  This  encircling  forest  gives 
the  region  a  natural  boundary,  and  made  it  early  of  political 
significance.    As  in  the  case  of  Picardy  the  larger  settlements 


CHAETRES  279 

were  naturally  associated  with  the  appearance  of  rivers,  and 
Chartres  on  the  Eure  is  comparable  to  Amiens  on  the  Somme. 

The  fact,  not  unfamiliar  to  the  tourist,  that  the  country 
people  bring  their  children  at  the  harvest  season  to  place 
them  under  the  protection  of  the  famous  Black  Virgin  of 
Chartres  is  full  of  significance  in  the  history  of  the  region. 
Beauce  is  a  natural  unity,  a  grain-producing  land  encircled 
by  forest  and  marsh  ;  in  such  cases  the  emotions  engendered 
by  the  corporate  life  tend  to  associate  themselves  with  a 
central  shrine,  which  is  at  once  their  expression  and  their 
fount.  To  the  market  the  peasants  bring  their  corn  ;  in 
the  cathedral  they  express  and  renew  the  feelings  which  make 
continuity  of  human  Ufe  possible.  The  generations  come 
and  go,  but  the  despair  which  the  shortness  of  their  duration 
tends  to  produce  is  conquered  by  the  splendours  of  the 
cathedral,  which  is  the  symbol  of  the  permanent  in  human 
ideals,  in  spite  of  the  ceaseless  alternation  of  birth  and  death. 
The  child  brought  to  receive  the  blessing  of  the  great  Mother 
has  at  best  before  it  but  a  brief  span  of  life,  but  the  pavement 
which  it  treads  has  been  trodden  by  the  feet  of  countless  others 
in  the  generations  which  are  gone,  and  will  be  trodden  by 
the  feet  of  countless  others  still  to  come.  Its  fathers  have 
sown  and  reaped  and  they  and  their  sheaves  have  rotted  into 
dust,  but  the  cathedral  remains,  and  is  in  its  turn  but  an 
image  of  something  greater  even  than  itself  or  than  the  creed 
it  symboUses. 

Acheulean  man  near  Amiens  chipped  and  sharpened  his 
flints,  and  his  laborious  care  expressed  something  more  than 
a  mere  desire  for  an  efficient  weapon.  The  twelfth-century 
architects  built  a  church  to  the  glory  of  a  particular  creed. 
The  creed  may  decay,  the  church  may  crumble,  both  may 
become  as  functionless  as  the  chipped  flints  which  expressed 
the  aspirations  of  an  earUer  race,  but  the  consciousness  which 
they  give  to  each  individual  of  being  not  merely  a  short-lived 
unit  but  a  link  in  an  endless  chain — this  remains.     We  mav 


280  CITY  AND  PLAIN  IN  FRANCE 

kneel  then  with  the  peasant  on  that  variegated  pavement, 
and  forget  the  creeds  in  the  thought  of  the  continuity  of 
emotion. 

If  one  leaves  the  cathedral  and  wanders  about  the  town  it 
becomes  obvious  that,  here  no  less  than  at  Reims,  the  pre- 
dominance of  Paris  has  thrown  Chartres  into  a  backwater. 
Its  old  importance  as  a  crossing-point  of  routes  has  all  but 
disappeared,  only  its  grain  remains.  The  minor  manufactures, 
e.g.  of  wool  and  of  leather,  are  interesting,  for,  in  accordance 
with  an  old  custom,  the  sheep  are  allowed  to  feed  upon  the 
fallowed  lands,  and  thus  sheep  farming  is  combined  with 
wheat. 

This  description  must  suffice  to  give  some  idea  of  Ufe  in 
the  northern  plains  of  France.  In  Aquitaine  there  is  another 
Tertiary  basin  with  somewhat  similar  characters,  while 
Provence,  which  we  shall  consider  separately,  is  of  another 
type. 

References.  Fuller  accounts  of  the  geography  of  France  will  be 
found  in  Prof.  Vidal  de  la  Blache's  Tableau  de  la  Oeographie  de  la  France, 
upon  which  the  foregoing  account  is  largely  based.  Reference  should 
also  be  made  to  the  description  of  France  in  de  Lapparent's  Leqons  de 
Geographie  Physique. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  NORTH  ITALIAN    PLAIN 

'  The  waveless  plain  of  Lombardy, 
Bounded  by  the  vaporous  air, 
Islanded  by  cities  fair.' 

No  greater  contrast  to  the  Basin  of  Paris  could  be  imagined 
than  that  great  plain  which  stretches  from  Turin  to  Venice, 
from  Cuneo  round  the  curve  of  the  Apennines  to  Rimini, 
and  from  Pinerolo  along  the  sigmoid  bend  of  the  Alps 
to  the  Gulf  of  Trieste.  Yet,  despite  their  contrasts,  both 
contain  marvellous  examples  of  urban  settlements.  It  is 
somewhat  curious  to  note  also,  that  while  geologically  the 
Plain  of  the  Po,  in  itself  and  in  its  encirchng  mountains,  is 
much  more  recent  than  the  Basin  of  Paris,  yet  historically 
it  is  far  older.  On  the  whole,  that  is,  the  splendours  of  the 
present  are  to  be  sought  in  the  northern  plain,  of  the  past 
in  the  dead  or  dying  cities  of  the  southern.  In  both  we  have 
stored  up  the  treasures  of  human  endeavour. 

Let  us  note  hi  a  httle  detail  some  of  the  contrasts  between 
the  two.  In  the  Basin  of  Paris,  as  we  have  seen,  a  ring  of 
much  denuded  mountain  stumps,  separated  by  open  gaps, 
surrounds  a  plain  whose  central  and  youngest  beds  are  of 
the  age  we  call  Tertiary,  girdled  about  with  the  clays  and 
limestones  of  the  Secondary  period.  The  diversity  of  the 
deposits,  the  fact  that  the  rivers  run  across  the  beds,  thus 
traversing  rocks  of  successively  later  origin,  are,  as  we  saw, 
factors  in  determining  the  origin  of  towns  at  points  where 
the  products  of  the  different  regions  are  most  easily  collected 

•281 


282  THE  NOETH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

and  exchanged.  Further,  as  the  surrounding  broken  ring 
of  mountain  stumps  is  widely  interrupted  to  the  north-west, 
access  to  surrounding  regions  is  here  excessively  easy.  In 
the  other  compass  directions  also  only  minor  obstacles  to 
intercommunication  occur.  The  net  result  is  that  Paris 
arose  as  the  centre  of  the  Basin  at  the  point  where  the  water 
routes  converged,  and  has  become,  to  an  overwhelming  degree, 
the  centre  of  the  land  of  which  it  is  the  capital.  France, 
as  a  country,  is  to*  a  very  high  degree  centraHsed,  and  as  a 
world  power  her  susceptibiHty  to  new  ideas  is  to  be  directly 
connected  with  her  easy  communication  with  many  lands 
of  different  products  and  characters.  The  high  mean  level 
of  her  literature  is  thus  the  expression  of  her  geographical 
pecuKarities. 

Turn  next  to  the  great  Plain  of  the  Po.  It  is  built  up  of 
beds  more  recent  than  Tertiary,  for  it  owes  its  origin  to  the 
fact  that  an  arm  of  the  Adriatic  was  filled  up  by  the  tremendous 
amount  of  waste  which  the  glacial  torrents  of  the  Ice  Age 
brought  down  from  the  great  glaciers  of  that  period.  Now, 
many  of  those  Alpine  torrents  are  filtered  in  the  lakes  which 
lie  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  In  earlier  times  all  their 
transported  material  was  spread  out  upon  the  sea  floor. 
With  minor  variations,  then,  the  beds  of  the  plain  are  constant 
in  character,  as  well  as  being  soft,  unconsolidated,  and 
generally  porous. 

Again  the  incomplete  mountain  ring  here — for  it  is  breached 
to  the  south-east — is  built  up  of  recent  folded  mountains 
in  which  extraordinarily  marked  erosion  is  going  on.  The 
rocks  of  these  mountains  are  highly  diverse,  and  among  them 
are  admirable  building  and  monumental  stones,  giving  rise, 
as  in  the  Paris  Basin,  but  more  markedly,  to  a  natural  tendency 
for  the  people  of  the  plain  to  specialise  in  architecture  and 
sculpture. 

More  striking,  however,  is  the  contrast  in  ease  of  communi- 
cation.    From  peninsular  Italy  to  the  south  the  plain  is  all 


NORTH  ITALIAN  TOWNS  283 

but  cut  ofT  by  mountains,  though  these  present  tolerably 
easy  passes,  and  to  the  north  and  west — but  to  a  much  less 
extent  to  the  east — the  Alps  seem  to  offer  a  barrier  to  free 
communication  with  surrounding  lands.  South-eastwards 
the  plain  slopes  gently  to  the  sea,  and  at  first  sight  one  would 
suppose  that  this  would  be  the  direction  in  which  its  traffic 
would  tend  to  flow,  following  the  line  of  the  water.  A  point, 
however,  which  must  strike  the  most  unreflective  tourist, 
is  that  while  in  the  Basin  of  Paris,  as  indeed  in  plains  generally, 
running  water  attracts  settlement,  here,  with  some  excep- 
tions, it  repels.  The  great  city  of  Milan  is  one  of  the  few 
examples  of  plain  cities  which  have  no  considerable  river 
running  through  them.  A  row  of  towns,  of  which  Parma  and 
Modena  are  two,  lie  along  the  slopes  of  the  Apennines,  avoid- 
ing alike  the  proximity  of  the  main  stream  and  of  its  great 
tributaries.  Finally,  by  whatever  route  one  descends  from 
the  Alps  towards  the  south-east  coast  of  the  plain,  the  most 
striking  feature  of  the  descent  is  that  the  river  valley  which 
is  utilised  near  the  Alps  is  left  before  one  travels  far  over  the 
plain,  and  coastal  towns — Venice,  Ravenna,  Rimini— avoid 
the  vicinity  of  the  rivers.  If  the  traveller  has  had  prevously 
no  very  detailed  knowledge  of  the  geography  of  the  plain, 
this  fact  offers  a  complete  puzzle,  and  as  one  settles  down  to 
the  journey,  say  from  Verona  to  Venice,  one  suddenly  rousea 
oneself  to  say — By  the  way,  what  became  of  the  Adige  ? 
The  Po  itself,  the  Piave,  the  Brenta,  have  the  same  discon- 
certing habit  of  disappearing  from  the  cognisance  of  the 
tourist,  without  apparent  cause. 

Associated  with  this  peculiar  character  of  the  routes  to 
the  sea,  and  the  want  of  connection  between  the  streams 
and  the  towns,  we  have  the  further  peculiarity  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  traffic  of  the  plain  does  not  follow  the  direct  line 
to  the  sea,  but  rather  tends  to  turn  southwards,  so  that  the 
most  important  junctions  of  the  plain  are  not  ports  but 
Milan,    Turin,    Bologna,    Alessandria.     Upon    the   first   two 


284  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

converge  routes  from  the  Alps,  the  latter  are  nodes  towards 
which  the  heavy  traffic  gravitates  before  the  passage  of  the 
Apennines  is  effected  at  the  two  lowest  points.  The  result 
is  that  though  there  is  apparently  an  open  road  to  the  south- 
east, yet  the  important  Unes  of  communication  turn  away 
from  this  easy  route,  in  order  to  attack  the  southern  boundary 
chain  of  the  plain.  The  cause  is  to  be  sought  in  the  fact 
that  the  western  side  of  Italy  has  always  predominated  in 
the  history  of  the  country,  and  the  local  conditions  on  the 
east  are  such  that  the  attempts,  repeated  throughout  historical 
time,  to  utihse  the  low  ground  near  the  head  of  the  Adriatic 
as  a  site  for  important  ports  have  never  met  with  more 
than  temporary  success. 
Shelley  says  of  Venice 

'  Sea-girt  city,  thou  hast  been 
Ocean's  child  and  then  his  queen,' 

but  that  is  because  the  poet  Hves  in  the  present.  Ocean,  like 
Time,  devours  his  children — Venice  is  at  once  offspring, 
queen  and  victim. 

Strive  as  he  will,  man  here  has  been  driven  from  one 
position  of  temporary  vantage  after  another,  and  that 
traveller  will  court  inevitable  disappointment  who  visits 
Venice  without  recollecting  that  its  people  have  been  fighting 
for  centuries  a  losing  battle.  One  of  the  great  charms  of 
Ravenna,  perhaps  the  most  marvellous  city  of  the  plain,  is 
that  with  mournful  dignity  she  has  long  since  acknowledged 
defeat ;  her  churches  with  their  gorgeous  mosaics,  her  tombs, 
her  relics  of  a  moment  of  splendid  Hfe  are  sinking  steadily 
and  resistlessly  into  the  marshes  ;  that  wonderful  mediaeval 
monument  of  Lombardi's  which  shows  a  youth  in  the  majesty 
of  death,  the  desire  to  live  frozen  upon  his  marble  Ups,  may 
well  serve  as  her  emblem.  Beside  her  Venice,  with  all  its 
glories  of  sky  and  sea,  is  little  more  than  a  painted  hag, 
persistently  refusing  to  face  the  facts.     Titian,  with  the  hand 


HILLS  OF  THE  PLAIN  285 

of  an  artist  and  the  soul  of  a  huckster,  exploiting  his  talent 
almost  to  the  last  moment  of  an  extended  life,  was  a  true 
citizen  of  the  water-penetrated  town. 

Let  us  seek  to  justify  some  of  these  statements  by  a  con- 
sideration of  the  physical  geography.  As  already  stated, 
till  the  end  of  Tertiary  times  at  least  the  present  plain  of  the 
Po  was  an  arm  of  the  Adriatic,  and,  with  some  minor 
exceptions,  its  floor  is  now  formed  entirely  of  transported 
waste,  chiefly  from  the  Alps,  but  partly  from  the  Apennines. 
Alpine  detritus  predominates  partly  because  the  Alps  are 
higher  and  steeper,  partly  because,  owing  to  their  snow-cap, 
their  streams  flow  throughout  the  year,  while  those  of  the 
Apennines  dwindle  in  the  summer  drought ;  but  especially 
because  the  great  glaciers  of  the  Ice  Age  deployed  far  down 
the  present  plain,  spread  a  great  mass  of  morainic  material 
near  their  snouts  (admirably  seen  at  the  lower  end  of  Lake 
Garda,  cf.  p.  186,  and  also  near  Ivrea),  and  in  addition  gave 
rise  to  huge  torrents  which  carried  the  firfer  material  far  out 
into  the  shallowing  sea,  as  do  their  smaller  descendants,  the 
glacial  torrents  of  to-day. 

We  have  said  that  there  are  a  few  minor  exceptions  to  the 
rule  that  the  plain  is  floored  only  with  alluvial  material. 
The  most  notable  of  these  are  the  beautiful  hills  called  Monti 
Berici  and  ColU  Euganei  respectively,  the  latter  being  well 
seen  as  one  approaches  Padua.  These  are  of  volcanic  origin. 
Another  notable  exception  is  the  block  of  high  ground  which 
rises  near  Turin,  one  of  whose  constituent  hills  is  crowned 
by  the  Superga.  This  hill  country — called  Monferrato — is 
but  a  part  of  the  Apennines,  advancing  into  the  plain,  and 
cut  ofi  from  the  main  chain  of  the  Apennines  by  the  valley 
of  the  Tanaro,  the  largest  right  bank  tributary  of  the  Po. 
In  regard  to  it  we  shall  have  a  word  to  say  directly. 

We  shall  not  discuss  in  detail  the  characters  of  the  deposits 
of  the  plain,  beyond  pointing  out  that,  as  we  should  expect, 
the  coarser  material  lies  close  to  the  Alps,  the  finer  nearer 


286  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

the  river.  The  regions  where  the  deposits  are  coarse  sufier 
from  drought,  for  the  water  sinks  rapidly  through  the  loose 
beds.  In  this  region  irrigation  is  carried  on  by  a  somewhat 
elaborate  canal  system.  Where  the  beds  are  finer,  they 
tend  to  take  on  the  character  of  clays,  and  are  thus  less 
permeable.  These  relatively  impermeable  beds  seem  to  be 
continued  to  the  north  beneath  the  coarser  deposits,  with 
the  result  that  at  the  line  of  junction  of  the  gravels  and 
the  clays  copious  springs  appear.  The  water  of  these  springs 
can  be  used  with  great  ease  for  irrigation  purposes,  without 
having  recourse  to  costly  canals,  and  the  rice  crop  of  Lombardy 
largely  depends  upon  this  copious  outflow  of  water,  which 
appears  along  a  band  called  the  region  oi  fonianili.  Owing 
to  the  possibihty  of  constant  watering  here,  and  the  long, 
hot,  continental  summer,  it  is  possible  to  take  off  several 
crops  from  the  same  land,  and  the  hay  crops  so  obtained 
help  to  account  for  the  cheese  of  the  plain  (Parmesan, 
Gorgonzola). 

Let  us  note  next  the  course  of  the  Po.  It  is  obvious  that 
it  does  not,  as  one  might  suppose,  occupy  the  centre  of  its 
great  valley.  Rather  does  it  he  close  to  the  Apennines,  so 
that  the  southern  Apennine  streams  are  mostly  short  and 
rapid.  The  reason  becomes  obvious  on  consideration. 
We  have  spoken  (p.  285)  of  the  great  steepness  of  the  Itahan 
side  of  the  Alps.  This  makes  the  Alpine  streams  very  swift, 
and  they  carry  much  water.  As  their  gradient  changes 
where  they  enter  the  plain,  they  tend  to  throw  down  much 
of  their  load,  with  the  consequence  that  they  build  up  their 
own  valleys,  and  tend,  as  it  were,  to  run  along  an  embank- 
ment of  their  own  making.  The  presence  of  these  embank- 
ments has  the  effect  of  preventing  the  union  of  the  adjacent 
streams,  for  each  separate  stream  builds  up  a  great  cone 
on  the  surface  of  the  plain.  The  result  is  that  the  main  river 
is  pushed  far  to  the  south.  Note  a  consequence  of  this  at 
the  western  end  of  the  plain.     Here,  owing  to  the  encircling 


THE  RIVERS  287 

mountains,  the  southern  streams  carry  much  water  as  well 
as  the  northern  ones.  When  the  Po  was  pushed  south  in 
the  vicinity  of  Alessandria  by  the  cones  of  the  northern 
streams,  the  Tanaro  was  able  to  eat  its  way  back  through 
a  projecting  part  of  the  Apennines,  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
capture  the  headwaters  of  a  stream  which  formerly  ran  from 
the  Ligurian  Alps,  past  Bra,  direct  to  the  Po  near  Turin. 
The  result  was  to  cut  off  from  the  Apennines  that  mass  of 
hilly  country  spoken  of  above  (p.  285)  wliich  forms  Mon- 
ferrato,  and  incidentally  to  give  the  Plain  of  Piedmont — 
which  thus  includes  an  isolated  bit  of  the  Apennines — a 
more  varied  and  picturesque  appearance  than  those  of 
Lombardy  or  Venetia. 

With  this  account  of  the  rivers  let  us  turn  to  the  question 
of  why  settlements  in  the  plain  avoid  them.  They  arc  rapid, 
variable,  both  in  their  flow  and  in  their  course  over  the  plain, 
and  carry  much  debris — contrast  the  slow,  constant,  clear 
Somme  (p.  276).  Rivers  attract  when  they  can  be  depended 
upon  ;  they  repel  when  they  are  variable,  for  the  variabiUty 
brings  with  it  not  only  the  risk  of  flooding,  but  associated 
with  the  flooding  the  possibility,  or  rather  the  probability, 
that  fertile  land  will  be  ruined  by  stones  and  mud,  that 
villages  and  towns  may  be  swept  away  or  destroyed. 

Travel  from  Cortina  down  to  Venice  by  Belluno  and  note 
the  bed  of  the  Piave,  far  too  wide  for  its  summer  stream, 
but  througli  all  its  width  piled  up  with  stones  which  the 
might  of  the  foaming  flood  will  transport  far  down  the  valley, 
with  sand  and  mud  which  will  be  carried  out  seaward  to  be 
again  transported  by  the  marine  currents,  and  so  to  play  its 
part  in  silting  up  some  doomed  port.  Not  such  are  the 
rivers  by  whose  banks  man  seeks  to  settle.  Variable  though 
the  Alpine  streams  are,  however,  the  ice  and  snow  of  the 
Alps  give  at  least  a  summer  flow,  which  the  Apennines  cannot 
give.  Thus  the  Alpine  streams,  apart  from  their  use  for 
irrigation  purposes,  furnish  water  power,  the  power  which 


288  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

is  developing  the  silk  and  cotton  industry  of  the  northern 
part  of  the  plain,  an  industry  which  once  depended  in  part 
on  the  peat  deposits,  themselves  a  rehc  of  glacial  conditions, 
but  now  largely  exhausted. 

But  if  the  rivers  are  uncertain  and  dangerous,  water  is 
generally  abundant,  and  the  inhabitant  of  the  plain  has 
found  by  long  experience  that  canals  are  safer  than  the 
natural  waterways.  Thus  Milan,  though  in  the  midst  of  a 
great  river  plain,  is  a  city  which  depends  for  water  com- 
munication on  canals,  not  on  a  river.  If  Turin  seems  to  be 
an  exception  to  the  rule  that  the  towns  of  the  plain  avoid 
the  rivers,  we  have  to  remember  that  the  Po  here,  before  it 
has  received  its  most  uncertain  tributaries,  is  still  manageable. 
Piacenza,  another  exception,  is  at  an  easy  crossing- place. 

We  must  turn  next  to  the  coast  to  consider  why  all  the 
ports  of  the  plain  have  had  the  same  history  of  a  period  of 
prosperity  and  then  of  permanent  eclipse. 

The  Adriatic  has  a  better  marked  tide  than  some  other 
parts  of  the  Mediterranean,  but,  on  account  of  the  interference 
of  the  tidal  waves  with  each  other,  there  is  only  one  tide  per 
day.  Further,  the  sea  is  relatively  shallow.  The  absence 
of  strong  tides,  the  shallow  sea,  promote  the  deposition  of 
rock  waste,  and  we  have  seen  that  with  this  the  rivers  are 
abundantly  loaded.  Therefore,  as  in  similar  cases  elsewhere, 
notably  in  the  eastern  Baltic,  banks  of  sand  and  silt  tend  to 
be  laid  down  off  the  coast.  Such  banks,  called  Nehrung  in 
the  Baltic,  receive  the  name  of  lido  in  the  Adriatic,  and  the 
Lido,  so  famous  as  a  seaside  resort,  is  but  a  specially  well- 
developed  case  of  such  a  bank.  The  currents  of  the  Adriatic 
sweep  southwards,  and  therefore  the  lidi  grow  in  the  southern 
direction,  and,  owing  to  the  transporting  power  of  the  waves, 
they  are  not  hmited  to  the  immediate  vicinity  of  river  mouths, 
but  tend  to  form  to  the  south  of  them.  Further,  they  are  riot 
continuous,  but  have  gaps  to  which  the  Itahans  give  the 
name  of  'porto,  the  porti  being  the  gates  to  the  harbour  beyond. 


LAGOON  AND  SAND-BANK  289 

The  harbour,  laguna  in  Italian,  the  equivalent  of  the  Uaff 
or  haven  of  the  Germans,  is  a  stretch  of  calm  water,  sheltered 
from  waves  and  wind  by  the  lido  or  bank  of  sand,  rich  in 
fish  because  the  turbid  water  is  loaded  with  food  material. 

Part  of  the  reason  for  the  wealth  of  fish  is  that  the  calm, 
silt-floored  lagoons  are  literal  sea-meadows.  Over  their 
surface  grows  the  sea-grass  or  Zostera,  found  also  in  suitable 
localities  off  our  own  coasts,  and  familiar  to  the  tourist  in 
Venice  because  it  is  extensively  used  as  packing  for  the  glass 
of  Murano.  When,  after  the  trip  is  over,  one  unwinds  the 
long  strands  from  those  fragments  of  precious  glass — which 
never  in  the  cold  hght  of  England  seem  so  beautiful  as  one 
thought — their  shght  '  fishy  '  smell  brings  back  all  the  sights 
and  sounds  of  the  wonderful  city,  from  the  insistent '  Murano, 
Madama,  Murano,'  of  the  gondohers,  to  the  faint  plash  of 
the  oars  in  the  city  of  silence,  and  the  cooing  of  the  pigeons 
as  they  make  love  in  the  sunshine,  with  a  true  Itahan  disre- 
gard for  the  fact  that  the  pigeon  population  is  already 
excessive.  It  brings  back  also  all  that  jumble  of  impressions 
which  Venice  gives — the  smell  of  the  Grand  Canal  as  the 
steamers  stir  its  black  noisome  depths,  the  green,  slimy 
steps,  the  suffocating  odour  of  chloride  of  lime  in  the  narrow 
calli,  the  baroque  churches  with  their  abuse  of  ornament, 
the  diverse  loot  which  decorates  St.  Mark's  Square,  and,  above 
all,  that  marvellous  effect  as  one  returns  from  the  Lido  across 
the  lagoon  to  Venice  in  the  twihght,  and  sees  all  its  beauties, 
backed  by  the  snowy  Alps,  with  its  defects  veiled  in  the 
lovely  evening  hght. 

Indeed  from  those  long  green  fronds  the  constructive 
geographer  of  the  modern  type  could  explain  for  us  the 
whole  of  Venice.  In  hfe  they  lodge  a  m3rriad  population  of 
tiny  sea  creatures,  which  in  turn  feed  the  fish,  while  the 
presence  of  the  weed  speaks  of  the  steady,  ceaseless  descent 
of  fine  particles  of  mud  which  is  slowly  but  surely  raising 
the  floor  of  the  lagoon.     Ultimately  the  diminution  of  depth, 

T 


290  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

the  shift  of  the  shore  currents,  strive  to  control  them  as  man 
may,  will  block  the  seaward  entrance  to  the  lagoon,  will 
prevent  the  daily  access  of  the  purifying  tide.  With  the  loss 
of  the  entrance- way  the  erstwhile  haven  must  lose  its  function ; 
from  a  living  thing  {laguna  viva)  it  becomes  morta,  and  the 
mosquito  larvae,  no  longer  destroyed  by  the  constant  access 
of  salt  water,  live  and  thrive,  hatch  out  into  mosquitoes,  soon 
become  infected  from  the  blood  of  some  malarial  patient, 
and  begin  their  work  of  disseminating  disease,  of  rendering 
a  once  habitable  place  a  void. 

This  in  brief  is  the  history  of  every  town  on  that  changing 
shore — shallowed  bay  ;  bay  cut  off  from  the  sea  by  a  pro- 
tecting sandbank,  rich  in  fish,  and  offering  safety  aUke  from 
land  and  sea,  from  storm  and  Goth  ;  bay  too  much  shallowed, 
cut  ofE  from  the  vivifying  ocean,  with  incipient  decay  of 
the  once  flourishing  town  ;  and — the  last  stage — the  com- 
plete separation  of  the  town  from  the  sea,  and  the  de- 
velopment around  it  of  what  we  still  call  fever-breeding 
swamps,  though  the  swamp  'per  se  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  fever. 

Forgotten  Spina  ;  Adria,  now  more  than  twelve  miles 
from  the  sea  ;  Aquileja,  still  with  much  to  recall  its  past 
prosperity,  but  yet  dead  before  the  Venetians  conquered  it ; 
Ravenna,  now  laboriously  connected  by  a  canal  with  the  sea 
which  has  left  it  to  its  mournful  splendour  ;  Venice,  putting 
a  brave  face  on  the  blows  of  fortune,  but  reduced  from 
the  condition  of  a  great  city  to  a  pleasure  town — all  have 
passed  or  are  passing  through  the  same  history,  and  no 
human  effort  can  postpone  the  inevitable  for  more  than  a 
brief  period. 

Even  more  pathetic  perhaps  than  that  advance  of  the  land 
upon  the  sea  which  is  the  prime  cause  of  the  decay,  is  a 
minor  accompaniment  of  the  land-building  process.  The 
land  that  is  formed  seawards  is  loose,  unconsolidated,  full 
of  water.    As  more  and  more  layers  are  laid  down  upon  the 


RAVENNA  291 

top  of  the  old  a  process  of  compression,  of  settling,  takes 
place,  with  the  result  that  the  land  seems  to  sink  ;  buildings 
slowly  bury  themselves  in  the  earth.  Where  the  sinking 
process  is  unequal  and  afiects  the  piles  upon  which  the 
buildings  stand,  the  whole  may  topple  bodily,  as  did  the 
Campanile  at  Venice.  The  buildings  of  Ravenna,  a  staider 
and  more  dignified  town,  subside  slowly  and  steadily  into 
the  earth. 

Among  the  many  thrills  of  that  city  surely  one  must  rank 
high  that  when  custodian  after  custodian,  in  each  successive 
building,  raises  a  covering  of  planks  and  shows  beneath  the 
present  floor  that  other  which  at  an  earUer  period  was  level 
with  the  surface,  points  out  the  water  which  is  sapping  the 
foundations.  The  gorgeous  colouring  of  the  mosaics  above, 
the  rising  water  below ;  the  echoes  of  that  fierce  old  warfare 
between  Arian  and  Orthodox  imaged  on  the  walls,  the  element 
which  quenches  all  strife  below — where  can  one  find  a  greater 
contrast  ?  Especially  perhaps  at  Sant'  Apolhnare  in  Classe, 
where  without  there  is  the  creaking  of  the  leisurely  bullock- 
carts  as  they  bring  their  loads  of  sugar  beet  to  the  factory, 
or  carry  away  the  dripping  residue,  and  within  the  stillness, 
the  emptiness,  the  soul-satisfying  tracery  on  the  ancient 
sarcophaguses,  does  one  feel  the  greatness  of  the  victory, 
the  magnitude  of  the  defeat.  In  the  austerity,  the  restraint 
of  its  art  Ravenna  is  unique  among  the  cities  of  the  plain, 
and  like  that  proud  lady,  her  erstwhile  ruler — twice  an  empress 
and  twice  a  slave — who  was  buried  sitting  in  her  robes  and 
jewels  that  after  death  at  least  she  should  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  blows  of  fate,  so  in  death  is  Ravenna  a  queen. 
Less  fortunate  than  the  city,  of  which  much  yet  remains,  the 
great  queen  was  burnt  within  her  tomb,  and  only  her  empty 
sarcophagus  stands  now  facing  the  Cristo  senza  Barba,  the 
Good  Shepherd  who  had  not  yet  become  the  Crucified. 

The  creed  which  made  Ravenna's  art  was  not  that  which 
filled  Florence  with  pictures  of  Mother  and  Child  ;  its  symbol- 


292  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

ism — of  peacock  and  grapes,  of  lamb  and  dove  and  stag — 
was  passionless  and  aloof,  the  art  of  a  people  who  faced  an 
inevitable  doom  without  fear  and  without  hope.  As  one 
wanders  through  the  quiet  streets,  and  notes  in  building  after 
building  the  repetition  of  the  symbols  of  the  peacock,  which 
is  everlasting  hfe,  and  of  the  lamb,  which  is  peace  ;  the 
absence  of  imaged  material  joys  and  pains,  of  the  whole 
conception  of  redemption  through  innocent  suffering  ;  the 
constant  representation  of  men  and  women  in  their  prime 
as  against  the  fevered  hope  that  a  new  generation  may  accom- 
phsh  what  the  old  has  failed  to  do  ;  the  dignity  of  a  life  which 
yearns  but  does  not  hope — senza  S'peme  vivemo  in  disio — we 
find  something  which  the  rest  of  Italy  cannot  give.  This 
is  another  religion  from  that  which  has  left  its  mark  in  the 
hill  towns  beyond  the  Apennines,  and  if  we  rejoice  that 
that  other  religion  raised  the  slave,  we  have  to  remember 
that  this  was  the  reUgion  of  free  men  and  women.  The 
slave  redeemed  is  still  the  tainted  man,  and  to  us,  steeped 
in  the  traditions  and  phraseology  of  that  creed,  the  older, 
the  conquered  faith  has  something  to  say. 

Do  not,  therefore,  forget  to  include  in  your  North  Italian 
tour  that  deviation  from  the  beaten  track  which  brings  you 
to  the  marshes  by  the  sea,  even  if  it  involve  facing  for  a 
second  time  the  pandemonium  which  reigns  at  Bologna  in 
the  tourist  season. 

Venice  of  course  no  one  is  likely  to  omit.  To  prevent 
disappointment,  however,  those  who  are  intensely  interested 
in  Italian  art  may  be  recommended  to  make  their  first  visit 
to  the  town  precede  rather  than  follow  that  to  Florence  or 
any  of  the  hill-towns,  and  to  reahse  that  above  all  Venice  was 
always  a  traders'  settlement.  In  this  respect  it  resembles 
Milan,  but  two  facts  obscure  in  the  existing  cities  the  basal 
resemblance.  Both  stand — necessarily  as  commercial  towns 
— at  a  crossing  place  of  routes,  but  while  with  modern  changes 
in  modes  of  communication  the  routes  which  converge  upon 


VENICE  293 

Milan  have  increased  rather  than  diminished  in  importance, 
the  trade  of  to-day  tends  to  turn  away  from  Venice.  Second, 
Milan  was  always  without  natural  defence,  or  almost  so,  a 
fact  which  to-day  faciUtates  free  communication,  but  which 
in  the  old  days  meant  that  time  and  again  the  town  was 
sacked  and  burnt.  Thus  relatively  few  artistic  treasures 
from  earlier  periods  remain.  There  is  within  the  town  a 
principle  of  Ufe  which  bids  it  rise  again  after  every  conquest, 
but  after  each  resurrection  it  has  the  interest  of  the  present, 
not  of  the  dead  past. 

Venice,  a  natural  fortress,  has  preserved,  except  against 
the  assaults  of  time,  many  treasures  almost  untouched. 
But  its  security  has  been  its  ruin.  Saved  by  isolation  from 
the  necessity  of  constant  change  and  adjustment,  it  has  lost 
the  power  of  assimilation  of  new  elements  or  new  ideas. 
The  two  towns  may  be  recommended  to  the  special  notice 
of  those  who  repeat  the  parrot  cry  that  in  human  Ufe  force, 
the  power  of  self-defence,  is  the  only  safeguard  of  national 
or  individual  hfe.  To  have  lost  the  need  of  constant  read- 
justment, reconstruction,  regeneration  is  to  lose  the  power 
of  continued  existence.  The  makers  of  Venice  fled  to  the 
marshes  to  escape  land  and  sea  foes,  found  security,  pros- 
pered greatly  till  in  the  course  of  time  their  descendants 
found  that  the  safe  life  had  sapped  the  wellsprings  of  national 
character,  as  the  unstable  marshes  sapped  the  foundations 
of  their  noble  buildings.  Milan,  apparently  helpless,  besieged, 
it  is  said,  forty-eight  times,  sacked  on  twenty-eight  occasions, 
has  arisen  greater  after  every  defeat.  The  South  American 
Glyptodon,  armed  at  every  point,  has  left  but  its  bones  for 
our  museums  ;  the  tiny  lizard,  helpless  and  fragile,  suns 
itself  in  myriads  on  every  vineyard  wall — the  timid  might, 
one  would  think,  take  some  comfort  from  such  thoughts  as 
these. 

But  they  are  perhaps  irrelevant.  Let  us  note  in  a  word 
or   two   some   of   Venice's   advantages   and   disadvantages. 


294  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

As  regards  the  jSxst  her  proximity  to  the  relatively  low  eastern 
Alps  is  of  course  important,  for,  especially  in  early  days, 
before  the  great  railway  tunnels  were  built,  the  fact  gave 
her  easy  access  to  the  northern  countries,  greedy  for  the 
products  of  Italy  and  the  East.  For  we  must  note  that, 
despite  their  height  and  continuity,  the  Alps  have  never  been 
in  a  real  sense  a  barrier  between  peoples.  Nay,  despite 
their  high  and  difl&cult  passes,  in  some  ways  we  have  to 
think  of  them  as  stimulating  traffic.  To  their  presence, 
as  already  seen,  we  have  to  ascribe  some  part  of  the  sharpness 
of  the  contrast  of  climate,  and  therefore  of  products,  between 
Central  and  Mediterranean  Europe,  and  it  is  this  contrast 
which  promotes  trade.  If  the  Italian  has  but  little  induce- 
ment to  climb  the  steep  wall  which  bars  progress  to  the  north, 
the  inhabitant  of  the  transalpine  countries  is  led  naturally 
up  the  long  river  valleys  till  from  the  crest  he  may  see — in 
imagination  if  not  in  fact — 

'  the  harvest-shining  plain, 
Where  the  peasant  heaps  his  grain,' 

as  well  as  '  the  cucumbers  and  the  melons,  and  the  leeks  and 
the  onions,  and  the  garHck '  of  this  richer  Egypt,  and  from 
his  lusting  for  these  and  other  joys  trade  arose.  That  trade 
fell  at  one  time  largely  to  the  lot  of  Venice.  Further,  as  is 
well  known,  the  trade  of  the  East  was  chiefly  in  her  hands 
till  the  discovery  of  the  sea-route  to  India,  and  it  was  that 
trade  especially  which  enriched  her. 

Among  her  disadvantages  we  have  to  note  that  the  opposite 
shore,  once  the  resort  of  the  pirates  who  harassed  her  trade, 
consists  for  the  most  part  of  but  a  narrow  strip  of  plain 
—  sometimes  non-existent  —  beyond  which  rise  mountains 
not  crossed  by  any  natural  trade  route.  The  reopening  of 
the  Mediterranean  to  the  traffic  of  the  East  with  the  cutting 
of  the  Suez  Canal,  might,  one  would  suppose,  have  caused 
Venice  to  regain  her  old  splendour,  but  she  is  ill-fitted  to 


IM.ATK  XXX 


tJoiulolas  on  the  (irand  Canal  at  \'(  nice,     'riic  iJiand  Canal 
is  prohalilv  till'  olil  ni<)Utli  of  the  IJronta. 


TURIN  295 

serve  as  a  great  raodern  port  (note  the  position  of  the  railway 
station),  and  opposite  her  hes  Trieste,  the  natural  outlet  of 
the  centre  and  south-east  of  the  continent.  With  this  brief 
description  we  may  leave  the  Queen  of  the  Sea,  only  adding 
that  the  S-shaped  Grand  Canal  is  probably  the  remains  of 
the  old  mouth  of  the  Brenta,  which  was  turned  away  from  the 
city  by  the  Venetians,  because  they  wished  to  diminish  the 
risk  of  the  silting  up  of  the  harbour. 

We  have  left  too  httle  space  to  say  much  of  the  other 
cities  of  the  plain.  Turin,  placed  where  the  plain  narrows, 
between  Mouferrato  and  the  Alps,  and  commanding  the 
Mont  Cenis  route,  is  functionally  a  fortress.  One  should 
notice  its  straight  streets,  crossing  each  other  at  right  angles, 
and  the  way  the  Castello  forms  the  natural  centre  of  the  town. 
It  is  thus  primarily  of  strategic  importance  (note  the  road 
to  Genoa,  c/.  p.  243),  though  of  recent  years  its  manufactures 
have  become  important.  Verona,  a  most  interesting  town, 
commands  the  southern  entrance  of  the  Brenner  pass,  much 
as  Munich  may  be  said  to  command  the  northern.  The  two 
towns  offer  contrasts  of  great  interest,  and  the  Brenner  route, 
with  a  stop  at  Verona  before  Venice  is  visited,  is  probably 
the  most  instructive  way  of  entering  Italy. 

The  hints  given  in  this  chapter  in  regard  to  the  causes 
determining  the  sites  of  towns  may  be  of  some  help  to  the 
tourist  in  his  visits  to  the  other  towns  of  the  Northern  Plain, 
which  we  cannot  discuss  here. 

References.  We  shall  not  give  here  a  list  of  books  dealing  with 
North  Italy.  Their  name  is  legion,  and  any  librarian  or  library  cata- 
logue wiU  give  a  long  list,  beginning  with  Ruskin's  Stones  of  Venice, 
and  ending  with  a  picture  book  published  yesterday.  As  no  attempt 
has  been  made  here  to  discuss  questions  of  art,  and  as  most  of  these 
books  deal  primarily  with  this  subject,  it  seems  unnecessary  to  name 
them  here.  The  most  authoritative  account  of  the  geography  of  Italy 
— unfortunately  not  very  easy  of  access — is  to  be  found  in  Prof.  Theo- 
bald Fischer's  Das  Halbinselland  Italien,  which  forms  part  (vol.    iii. 


296  THE  NORTH  ITALIAN  PLAIN 

part  2,  2nd  half)  of  Kjrchhoff's  monumental  work  called  Unser 
Wissen  von  der  Erde,  the  special  volume  being  part  of  Laenderhunde 
von  Europa.  Most  descriptions  of  Italy  in  books  of  reference  are  more 
or  less  based  upon  this  account.  In  the  course  of  his  reading  the  in- 
dustrious traveller  wiU  not  fail  to  plod  through  /  Promessi  Sposi,  which 
gives  a  good  account  of  Milan,  and  some  history  of  the  Risorgimento 
should  also  be  included. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PROVENCE   AND  TRANSAPENNINE   ITALY.      THE 
DEVELOPMENT   OF   THE   TOWN 

*  Qui  n'a  pas  vu  Avignon  du  temps  des  Papes,  n'a  rien  vu.  Pour 
la  gaiet6,  la  vie,  I'animation,  le  train  des  fetes,  jamais  une  ville  pareille. 
C'6taient,  du  matin  au  soir,  des  processions,  des  pelerinages,  les  rues 
jonch6es  de  fleurs,  tapissees  dc  hautes  lices,  des  arrivages  de  cardinaux 
par  le  Rhone,  bannieres  au  vent,  galeres  pavoisees,  les  soldats  du  Pape 
qui  chantaient  du  latin  sur  les  places,  les  cr^celles  des  freres  queteurs ; 
puis,  du  haut  en  bas  des  maisons  qui  se  pressaient  en  bourdonnant 
autour  du  grand  palais  papal,  comme  des  abeilles  autour  de  leur  ruche, 
c'6tait  encore  le  tic-tac  des  mdtiers  a  dentelles,  Ic  va-et-vient  des 
navettcs  tissant  Tor  des  chasubles,  les  petits  marteaux  des  ciseleurs  dc 
burettes,  les  tables  d'harmonie  qu'on  ajustait  chcz  les  luthiers,  les 
cantiqucs  des  ourdisseuses ;  par  la-dessus  le  bruit  des  cloches,  et  ;tou- 
jours  quelques  tambourins  qu-on  entendait  ronfler,  la-bas,  du  cot^  du 
pont.  .  .  .  Ah  !  I'heureux  temps  !  I'ljeureuse  ville  ! ' 

V 

The  great  plain  of  the  Po  which  we  considered  in  the  last 
chapter  is  said  by  Professor  Fischer  to  hnk  peninsular  and 
therefore  Mediterranean  Italy  to  Europe  proper.  Spain 
is  cut  off  from  continental  Europe  not  only  by  the  chain  of 
the  Pyrenees,  but  also  by  the  fact  that  behind  the  barrier 
lies  a  relatively  infertile  plateau  land.  Spain  proper  lies 
far  to  the  south,  and  the  long  domination  of  the  Moors 
emphasises  its  apartness  from  the  rest  of  Europe,  the  fact 
that  in  climate,  products  and  civilisation  it  is  Mediterranean 
— one  might  almost  say  North  African.  In  Italy  the  vast, 
fertile  Northern  plain  has  exerted  throughout  historical  time 
an  attraction  upon  the  peoples  of  Central  Europe  which  has 


298     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

enabled  them  to  overcome  the  difficulties  of  the  passage, 
has — in  a  broad  sense — germanised  the  north  of  Italy,  and 
thus  prevented  that  country  from  presenting  the  remoteness 
of  the  Iberian  peninsula. 

Indeed  were  it  not  that  Central  Europe  is  linked  to  Mediter- 
ranean Italy  by  the  passes  of  the  Alps  and  the  Apennines, 
and  by  that  wide  furrow  through  which  the  Saone  and  Rhone 
flow,  there  would  be  much  to  be  said  for  the  exclusion  of  the 
great  peninsulas  of  the  Mediterranean  from  Europe  in  the 
strict  sense.  Greece  influenced  Italy  profoundly,  and  this 
influence  was  sent  northwards  by  the  routes  we  have  men- 
tioned— it  is  to  this  fact  that  we  owe  the  double  civilisation 
of  Mid-Europe.  In  Chapter  i.  we  excluded  Eastern  Europe 
from  our  conception  of  the  continent,  not  only  because  of 
its  different  physical  characters,  but  also  because  of  its  aloof- 
ness in  fact.  We  include  the  Mediterranean  lands  in  our 
narrowed  conception  of  Europe,  not  that  the  differences  in 
this  case  are  less — they  are  certainly  as  great — but  because 
the  two  regions  have  continually  reacted  and  interacted 
upon  one  another.  Across  the  lofty  Alpine  passes,  through 
the  great  furrow  of  the  Rhone,  there  has  been  a  ceaseless 
interchange  of  products,  of  ideals,  of  influences.  Italy,  the 
central  member  of  the  group  of  three  Mediterranean  penin- 
sulas, has  been,  on  account  of  her  position,  the  mediator 
between  two  types  of  civihsation,  the  northern  and  the 
southern.  The  swaUows  which  fly  now  north  and  now 
south,  along  the  hne  of  the  vanished  Tyrrhenian  land,  sym- 
bolise the  movement  of  human  ideals. 

We  have  already  in  Chapter  xix.  spoken  of  the  Riviera, 
having  taken  it  as  a  region  apart,  because  the  towns  and 
villages  which  the  term  connotes  for  most  people  are  in 
great  part  pleasure  resorts  and  nothing  more,  are  not  natural 
outgrowths  of  their  surroundings.  The  French  Riviera 
includes  a  small  part  of  Provence,  but  Provence  as  a  whole 
difiers    markedly    from    the    sheltered    '  hothouse '    coastal 


HILL-TOP  TOWNS  299 

strip,  and  is  strongly  Mediterranean,  if  not  Italian,  in  feeling. 
Indeed  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  those  who  find  themselves 
unable  to  visit  Transapennine  Italy  may  capture  more  of  its 
atmosphere — actual  and  mental — in  some  of  the  old  towns 
of  Provence  than  in  the  plains  of  Lombardy  or  Venetia. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  include  a  brief  consideration 
of  Provence  in  this  chapter. 

What  are  the  special  features  of  these  Mediterranean 
lands  ?  No  doubt  very  varied  answers  could  be  given  to 
this  question,  but,  geographically  speaking,  the  flowering 
of  the  individual  town,  if  one  may  put  the  matter  so,  is 
perhaps  the  most  striking  feature.  In  Provence  and  in  the 
Mediterranean  region  generally  there  is  a  sharp  alternation 
of  mountain  and  plain,  the  latter  being  usually  small.  There 
is  a  correspondingly  sharp  contrast  between  the  rude  life  of 
the  mountaineer  and  the  intensely  civiHsed  hfe  of  the  towns- 
man, and  as  the  plains  are  narrow  and  isolated,  and  yet  often 
highly  productive,  and  the  town-making  instinct  very  highly 
developed,  the  individual  settlement  acquires  a  perfection 
rare  elsewhere.  It  is  not  only  that,  in  earUer  days,  art 
flourished  in  those  separate  cities,  relatively  small  though 
they  were,  as  it  does  not  flourish  in  our  great  centres  ;  the 
city  itself  was  a  more  complete  organism  than  its  northern 
representatives.  It  was  not  only  market-town  and  seat  of 
manufacture,  of  commerce,  of  learning,  of  administration  ; 
in  many  parts  of  Italy,  by  a  curious  paradox,  the  agriculturist 
is  a  townsman.  If  one  journeys  through  the  heart  of  penin- 
sular Italy,  say  from  Florence  to  Rome,  one  of  the  most 
striking  features  of  the  journey  is  the  presence  of  innumerable 
little  towns  on  the  hilltops,  separated  by  spaces  all  but 
devoid  of  habitations.  The  inhabitants  of  these  hill-towns 
are  often  largely  engaged  in  cultivating  the  land,  and  it  is 
characteristic  of  much  of  Italy  that  not  only  the  sohtary 
habitation  but  even  the  small  village  is  rare.  In  Scotland 
and  the  north  of  England  one  not  uncommonly  finds  the 


300     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

village  reduced  as  it  were  to  its  functional  minimum.  It 
may  consist  of  church,  school,  blacksmith's  shop,  vicarage 
or  manse,  with  perhaps  a  squire  or  laird's  house  and  a  few 
cottages.  Sometimes  it  is  reduced  even  below  this.  In 
Italy,  on  the  other  hand,  whenever  what  the  French 
geographers  call  an  '  agglomeration  '  exists,  it  tends  to  be 
relatively  large. 

The  fact  has  of  course  a  considerable  efEect  upon  the 
traveller's  movements  in  Italy.  Very  many  of  those  villages 
or  towns  contain  magnificent  works  of  art,  and  it  is  possible 
to  journey  slowly  through  the  country,  from  one  centre  to 
the  next,  gorging  oneself  as  it  were  with  beauty — primarily, 
however,  the  beauties  of  art.  But  even  were  the  beauties 
of  nature  greater  than,  as  a  rule,  they  are,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  study  them  in  detail,  for  that  solitary  wandering  on  foot 
from  hill  to  valley  and  valley  to  hill,  which  seems  so  eminently 
natural  to  the  less  socialised  northerners,  is  regarded  here 
as  an  inexplicable  phenomenon — the  rucksack  is  not  a  passport 
in  Italy. 

The  causes  of  the  urbanisation  of  Mediterranean  lands 
are  no  doubt  multiple,  and  have  not  perhaps  been  yet  fully 
analysed.  Partly  no  doubt  the  people  cluster  on  the  hill- 
tops because  of  the  danger  of  malaria  on  the  plains  below,  the 
steep  slopes  above  diminishing  the  number  of  pools  in  which 
mosquitoes  might  breed.  Safety  from  robbers  is  no  doubt 
also  a  factor,  and  pohtical  causes  in  the  past  have  counted 
for  something.  We  have  also  to  remember  that  as  the 
crops  are  mostly  valuable  in  proportion  to  bulk,  and  demand 
a  corresponding  amount  of  labour,  less  land  is  necessary 
than  when  cheaper  crops  are  grown.  In  other  words,  a 
relatively  small  tract  of  land  round  a  village  will  support 
its  population  if  that  land  is  devoted  to  vines,  oHves,  mul- 
berries for  silk,  and  so  forth,  as  compared  with  the  amount 
required  to  grow  potatoes  or  turnips,  and  thus  the  villager 
who  is  an  agriculturist  need  not  travel  a  great  distance  to 


OLD  TOWNS  AND  NEW  301 

his  work.  It  is  possible  also  that  race  and  tradition  count 
for  something.  In  any  case  the  tourist,  who  is  probably  a 
native  of  a  modern  type  of  town,  should  not  fail  to  notice 
that  since  the  Italians — after  long  centuries  of  practice — 
have,  or  had  once,  practically  solved  the  problem  of  adapting 
their  towns  to  human  needs,  they  have  no  foolish  illusions 
about  the  superiority  of  country  hfe.  Our  towns  are  for 
the  most  part  arranged  with  insufficient  regard  for  human 
needs  except  the  most  material  ones,  and  the  consequence 
is  that  we  most  of  us  cherish  the  fond  delusion  that  it  is 
our  dearest  wish  to  retire  into  the  country  and  hve  the 
simple  life,  and  that  it  is  a  sign  of  degeneracy  for  country 
folk  to  wish  to  enjoy  the  conveniences  and  decencies  to 
be  found  in  the  towns.  In  point  of  fact  the  ordinary  towns- 
man's desire  to  hve  in  the  country  is  precisely  on  all  fours 
with  his  desire  to  eat  oatcake  or  Bauerbrod,  a  subject  which 
we  discussed  on  p.  137. 

Next  to  the  development  of  the  town,  the  most  striking 
feature  of  Provence  and  Mediterranean  Italy  is  perhaps  the 
chmate  and  associated  vegetation.  This  subject  we  have 
already  discussed,  but  perhaps  we  should  note  in  addition 
that  it  is  the  clearness  of  the  air,  the  bright  sunhght,  the 
recurrent  drought,  which  give  rise  to  those  colour  effects 
so  dear  to  the  artist's  soul,  which  were  also  so  keen  a  stimulus 
to  the  great  artists  of  the  past.  Life  in  towns  where  free 
social  intercourse  was  possible  ;  the  fact  that  those  towns 
were  natural  centres  into  which  many  influences  drained, 
constant  intercourse  being  possible  across  and  along  a  great 
sea  which  bordered  similar  and  yet  contrasting  countries — 
these  were  among  the  conditions  which  made  it  possible  for 
the  mediaeval  Italians  to  enrich  humanity  with  so  many 
priceless  treasures. 

But  a  caution  should  be  added.  In  spite  of  all  its  marvels, 
Italy  proper  probably  almost  always  comes  to  the  unsophisti- 
cated tourist  with  a  shock  of  disappointment,  and  for  this 


302     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

reason  also  it  is  well  to  visit  Provence  before  the  longer 
journey  is  taken.  Expectation  in  this  case  is  not  generally 
raised  to  so  high  a  pitch  and  therefore  the  shock  is  less,  and 
one  learns  what  to  expect  among  the  hill-towns. 

There  is  in  Grant  Allen's  book  called  The  Woman  Who  Did, 
a  few  words  of  description  of  an  English  girl's  sensations 
on  a  first  view  of  Perugia  which  must  represent  the  feelings  of 
many  another,  whose  careful  reading  has  not  prepared  her 
for  that  sudden  sinking  of  heart  which  the  first  Itahan  town 
seen  at  close  quarters  is  apt  to  produce — for  Perugia  is  no 
worse  than  the  other  towns,  and  is  better  than  some. 

The  exact  causes  of  that  shock  of  disappointment  are 
not  easy  to  put  into  words  which  will  not  arouse  prejudice, 
on  one  side  or  the  other.  Those  of  our  towns  which  are 
growing  are  mostly  of  recent  origin,  and,  fundamentally,  have 
been  constructed  to  supply  the  maximum  amount  of  labour 
for  the  factories  with  the  minimum  of  initial  outlay.  They 
are  mostly  congested  or  contain  congested  areas,  and  have 
arisen  with  great  rapidity  ;  all  these  statements  being  of 
course  especially  true  of  the  coal  towns.  These  facts  necessi- 
tate an  efficient  water  supply,  usually  brought  from  a  distance, 
an  adequate  system  of  drainage,  and  to  such  subjects,  as  well 
as  to  poUcing,  cleaning,  the  construction  of  schools,  hospitals, 
workhouses  and  so  forth,  the  attention  of  administrative 
bodies  is  chiefly  directed.  Within  certain  Umits  and  at  a 
certain  level  most  of  our  towns  are  efficiently  managed. 
This  kind  of  efficiency  is  for  the  most  part  absent  in  the  towns 
of  Mediterranean  Italy,  and  the  northern  tourist,  who  is 
shocked  by  obvious  dehnquencies,  tends  to  condemn  the 
inhabitants  wholesale  as  shiftless,  idle,  dirty,  and  so  forth. 
Closer  inspection  will,  however,  show  that  the  town  does 
often  provide  very  adequately  for  needs  of  whose  existence 
our  municipahties  are  just  beginning  to  be  aware.  The 
traveller  who  is  unutterably  scandahsed  by  the  condition 
of  a  hill-town  street  should  remember  that  art  means  leisure, 


CHARACTERS  OF  ITALIAN  TO^VNS  303 

and  that  we  may  suppose  that  the  great  art  of  the  past 
represents  in  a  sense  time  saved  which  further  north  would 
have  been  spent  in  scavenging,  not  an  inspiring  occupation 
at  best.  The  question  whether  it  is  better  to  have  a  dirty 
street  and  a  marvellous  church,  or  a  spotless  street  and  hideous 
public  buildings  is  one  which  each  individual  must  settle 
for  himself,  but  before  condemning  the  Italians  wholesale 
as  idlers,  as  many  British  tourists  do,  one  should  remember 
that  a  long  latent  period  is  necessary  for  the  production  of 
works  of  art,  and  what  looks  like  idleness  may  really  be 
germination. 

Those  who  rank  cleanliness  higher  than  art  should  return 
home  through  Germany,  and  note  how  the  people  there  pay 
for  their  really  admirably  kept  towns  in  the  frequent  artless 
barbarity  of  their  monuments,  where  the  conceptions  of  a 
child  or  a  savage  are  presented  with  the  help  of  all  the  resources 
of  civihsation.  In  their  towns  the  Itahans  sometimes  succeed 
in  expressing  the  highest  human  emotions  in  almost  perfect 
form,  while  the  obviously  very  expensive  monuments  which 
decorate  beautiful  sites  in  Germany  seem  designed,  like  the 
war  paint  of  primitive  peoples,  to  frighten  a  possible  enemy. 
Even  more  depressing,  however,  than  the  actual  Denkmal 
is  the  thought  that  it  represents  a  base  ideal  become  imaged 
flesh,  an  ideal  which  corroded  the  heart  of  a  people. 

But  it  is  difficult  to  be  fair  to  both  parties,  and  there  are 
moments  when  'efficiency,'  even  of  the  most  blatant  type, 
seems  to  have  its  uses  ;  as,  for  instance,  when  one  finds  within 
an  Italian  church  a  notice  setting  forth  the  bishop's  permis- 
sion to  the  faithful  to  abstain  from  fasting  because  of  the 
prevalence  of  infectious  disease  {i.e.  cholera  ?),  and  outside  on 
the  steps  of  the  same  church  in  the  blazing  summer  sun  clear 
evidence  that  the  town's  system  of  sanitation — if  indeed 
such  exists — is  totally  inadequate  to  its  needs.  Again, 
however,  one  has  to  note  on  the  other  side  that  there  are 
villages  and  hamlets  in  Scotland  as  innocent  of  any  form  of 


304     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

sanitation  as  any  Italian  or  Proven9al  town,  and  that  the 
Scot,  of  whose  virtues  it  is  the  custom  to  speak  so  highly,  in 
his  native  village  often  shows  that  utter  shiftlessness  of  which 
the  Italian  is  so  bitterly  accused. 

Perhaps  on  the  whole  the  safest  way  is  first  to  avoid,  so 
far  as  possible,  making  sweeping  racial  deductions  on  the 
basis  of  a  traveller's  brief  observations,  and,  further,  to 
extend  one's  observations  over  as  many  regions  as  possible. 
There  is  no  surer  method  of  acquiring  wide  tolerance,  and 
one  must  not  forget  that  life  would  lose  half  its  savour  if 
our  neighbours  had  not  vices  which  make  our  virtues  shine 
the  brighter. 

With  this  introduction  let  us  note  some  of  the  structural 
features  which  have  been  of  importance  in  connection  with 
the  history  of  Transapennine  Italy. 

The  first  point  of  interest  is  the  reason  why  the  balance 
of  power  has  always  through  historical  time  lain  to  the  west 
rather  than  to  the  east.  We  have  already  seen  that  the 
east  coast,  from  about  Rimini  northwards,  is  low,  flat,  swampy, 
and  its  harbours  continually  liable  to  silting-up,  owing  to 
the  fact  that  the  long  rivers,  which  carry  much  water,  have 
mountain  tributaries,  loaded  with  copious  debris,  which  is 
thrown  down  where  the  main  stream  enters  the  sea.  From 
the  vicinity  of  Rimini  southwards  the  coast  rises  steeply 
from  the  shore,  and  for  long  tracts  is  harbourless — Brindisi 
and  Taranto  being  the  only  important  ports. 

Not  only  is  the  coast  harbourless  and  difficult  of  access, 
it  has  the  further  disadvantage  that  a  coastal  plain  is  some- 
times absent  and  when  present  never  wide.  Further,  since 
the  rivers  are  short,  rapid,  and  run  in  parallel  disconnected 
valleys,  access  to  the  interior  is  difficult,  and  that  interior 
when  reached  contains  no  important  plains.  Again,  as  aheady 
explained,  the  opposite  coastline  has  but  few  products  to 
offer.  In  consequence  trafiic  up  the  Adriatic  has  for  the 
most  part  been  directed  to  the  ports  of  the  Po  plain,  and 


COASTLINES  OF  ITALY  305 

so  to  that  plain  and  to  the  Tranaalpine  countries,  not  to 
peninsular  Italy. 

As  contrasted  with  the  Adriatic  coastline,  the  western 
part  of  the  peninsula  has  many  advantages.  Here  the 
mountains  for  the  most  part  stand  further  back  from  the 
coast,  and  what  were  once  depressions  between  the  mountains 
and  the  sea  have  been  filled  up  by  the  products  of  volcanic 
eruptions,  e.g.  at  Naples  and  around  Rome,  or  by  the  debris 
carried  by  rivers,  as  in  the  lower  basin  of  the  Arno.  Further, 
at  this  side  the  rivers  are  of  more  complicated  structure,  the 
short  parallel  streams  of  the  east  being  replaced  by  branching 
systems,  watering  and  opening  up  wide  plains,  notably  those 
of  the  Arno  and  the  Tiber.  It  is  these  plains  which  bear 
many  of  the  most  important  towns  of  peninsular  Italy,  for 
example,  Rome,  Florence,  and  so  forth.  Not  only  are  these 
plains  in  many  cases  floored  with  fertile  soil,  but  this  part  of 
peninsular  Italy  faces  the  rain-bearing  winds,  and  has  a  heavier 
precipitation,  and  on  the  whole  a  better  climate  than  the 
east.  Finally,  on  this  side  better  ports  occur,  a  subject 
which  demands  some  consideration. 

The  west  coast  of  Italy  generally  shows  much  variation 
in  structure.  In  Calabria  the  mountains  rise  more  or  less 
directly  from  the  sea,  and  good  ports  do  not  exist.  Further 
north,  in  the  Gulf  of  Salerno,  and  still  more  in  that  of  Naples, 
the  straight  coasthne  of  Calabria  is  replaced  by  a  region  of 
bays,  into  which  no  large  rivers  open,  so  that  the  danger  of 
the  silting  up  of  harbours  is  shght.  Here  in  classical  times 
were  the  great  ports,  as  well  as  the  towns  founded  by  Greek 
colonists  and  strongly  influenced  by  Greek  culture,  with  the 
result  that  here,  as  on  the  east  coast  of  Sicily,  we  have  often 
wonderful  relics  of  earlier  civihsations.  The  presence  of 
Sicily  also,  which  again  has  good  harbours,  promoted  free 
communication  by  water  at  a  time  when  civilisation  was 
water-borne,  and  in  consequence  all  down  these  coasts  we  have 
monuments  indicating  the  importance  of  vanished  towns, 

u 


306     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

towns  sometimes,  like  that  of  Paestum,  represented  now  only 
by  their  temples. 

As  we  pass  northwards  of  the  Gulf  of  Gseta  the  conditions 
become  less  favourable.  Here  the  peninsula  is  wider,  the 
rivers  longer,  of  greater  volume  and  more  densely  loaded 
with  silt.  In  consequence,  though  the  low  coasthne  is 
generally  favourable  to  commerce,  all  through  historical 
time  the  danger  of  silting  up  has  been  present,  and,  as  in  the 
northern  Adriatic,  many  ports  have  decayed  or  disappeared. 
But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  difficulty.  As  on  the  east 
coast  the  silting  up  has  meant  the  formation  of '  dead  '  lagoons, 
cut  off  from  the  influence  of  the  sea,  forming  nurseries  for 
miUions  of  mosquitoes  which,  soon  infected  with  malaria 
germs,  become  agents  for  the  transmission  of  fever.  Leghorn, 
now  an  important  port,  has  been  rendered  healthy  only  at 
great  expenditure,  and  the  melancholy  of  Pisa  is  to  be  ascribed 
not  only  to  the  fact  that,  as  at  Ravenna,  the  sea  has  been 
steadily  retreating  through  historical  time,  but  also  (again 
like  Ravenna)  to  the  fever  '  bred  in  her  marshes.' 

Beyond  the  mouth  of  the  Magra,  in  the  vicinity  of  Spezia, 
we  come  again  to  a  coast  where  mountains  rise  steeply  from 
the  sea,  where  silting  up  and  fever  disappear,  and  we  thus 
pass  into  the  region  of  the  Riviera  already  described 
(Chapter  xix.). 

As  we  again  travel  westwards  beyond  the  coastUne  of  the 
Riviera,  the  mountains  retreat  and  we  come  to  the  swampy 
flats  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Rhone,  with  the  possibiUty  of 
easy  access  to  the  interior.  Here,  again,  therefore  appear 
the  splendid  monuments  of  an  earlier  age,  and  in  Aries  and 
Nimes  and  the  adjacent  region  we  find  again  some  of  the 
beauties  to  be  found  round  the  Gulfs  of  Salerno  and  Naples 
and  in  Sicily. 

Broadly  speaking,  we  may  say  that  the  original  civihsation 
along  this  coast  was  sea-borne,  and  its  relics  are  to  be  found 
chiefly  where  convenient  harbours  exist ;    where  access  to 


I 'LATH  XXXI 


1  1 

1    t. 

^ 

I 

'"'"■11  ' 

1    ■'  "'• 

•Jj^ 

^^^ 

Tlie  Aruo  at  Florence  in  sununer  time,  showing  the  marginal 
pools  in  which  tlie  mo.S(|uitoes  breed  ;  this  swampv  ground 
was  formerly  much  more  extensive. 


FLORENCE  307 

the  interior  is  relatively  easy  ;  where  fertile  patches  attract 
settlement ;  where  the  absence  of  swamps  and  of  malaria 
make  for  healthy  conditions,  though  some  of  the  swamps 
are  of  relatively  recent  origin. 

But  while  the  monuments  of  classical  times  are  to  be 
sought  largely,  though  not  exclusively,  within  easy  access  of 
the  sea,  the  splendours  of  mediajval  and  Renaissance  art  are 
to  be  sought  in  peninsular  Italy  mostly  in  the  towns  which 
ring  round  the  inner  plains  to  the  west  of  the  Apennines, 
and  for  the  most  part  stand  at  some  height  above  these 
plains.  In  this  connection  we  have  to  remember  that, 
geologically,  Italy  is  very  modern,  the  Apennines  being 
younger  even  than  the  Alps.  The  surface  of  the  country  is 
therefore  altering  with  great  rapidity,  has  been  altering 
through  historical  times.  The  rate  of  erosion  in  the  soft 
rocks  of  the  Apennines  is  very  rapid,  so  that  the  hills  are 
being  worn  down,  the  valleys  filled  up.  Some  details  in  the 
history  of  Italy  are  explicable  by  these  facts.  For  example, 
it  is  interesting  to  note  the  relation  of  Fiesole,  on  the  hill, 
to  Florence,  on  the  plain.  Fiesole  is  the  older  town,  and 
the  original  choice  of  its  site  must  have  been  partly  deter- 
mined by  the  fact  that  it  was  above  the  swamps  which 
once  covered  the  ground  upon  which  Florence  now  stands 
(Plate  XXXI.).  In  part  natural  processes,  in  part  doubtless 
human  effort,  made  it  possible  for  man  to  descend  from  the 
heights,  and  to  build  a  town  in  the  more  convenient  position 
offered  by  the  drained  plain. 

In  many  respects  indeed  Florence  is  worth  the  attention 
of  the  geographer  proper,  no  less  than  of  those  who  take 
any  interest  whatever  in  human  achievements.  It  is  a  bridge 
town,  placed  where  the  river  is  most  easily  crossed,  and  the 
tourist  will  not  fail  to  notice  how  important  a  part  the 
many  bridges  play  in  the  beauty  of  the  town.  It  marks  a 
junction  of  streams,  for  it  stands  on  the  triangular  tract  of 
land  between  the  union  of  the  Mugnano  torrent  and  the 


SOS     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

Arno,  and  is  thus  easily  protected.  It  marks  also  a  junction 
of  routes,  for  all  the  easy  passages  through  the  Apennines 
converge  upon  the  city.  It  is  the  centre  of  a  fertile  plain,  a 
fact  most  easily  appreciated  during  that  wonderful  descent 
in  the  train  from  Pracchia  to  Pistoia,  with  its  constant  brief 
gUmpses  of  the  rich  plains  far  below.  At  the  same  time  it 
is  a  junction  town  between  plain  and  mountain,  for  the 
mountains  ring  it  round  closely,  and  yield  marble  for  its 
buildings  and  sculptures,  wool  for  its  old  woollen  industry, 
and  so  forth.  Again  it  has,  or  had  formerly,  easy  access 
to  the  sea,  and  battled  ceaselessl}''  with  Pisa  for  its  open  door. 
Finally,  it  commands,  through  the  curious  Val  di  Chiana, 
the  open  road  to  the  valley  of  the  Tiber  and  so  to  Rome. 

Of  this  valley,  so  interesting  even  to  the  casual  tourist 
on  account  of  its  vague  and  uncertain  drainage,  we  must 
next  say  something. 

Till  the  end  of  Tertiary  times  a  narrow  arm  of  the  sea  seems 
to  have  penetrated  the  land  to  beyond  Florence,  passed  down 
what  is  now  the  Val  di  Chiana  to  the  Tiber  valley,  and  joined 
the  existing  sea  near  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber.  This  old 
strait  thus  cut  ofE  the  present  Apennines  from  an  island 
which  lay  to  the  west  of  them.  The  strait  was  filled  up  by 
the  waste  of  the  Apennines,  poured  into  the  sea  by  the  rapid 
streams  which,  loaded  with  detritus,  swept  down  the  slopes 
of  the  mountains.  Thus  there  arose  the  plains  upon  which 
so  much  of  the  Hfe  of  peninsular  Italy  depends. 

The  fining  up  of  the  strait  did  not  take  place  uniformly. 
In  the  first  place  separated  masses  of  water  arose,  of  which 
the  large  lake  Trasimeno  and  the  artificially  reduced  lakes 
of  Chiusi  and  Montepulciano  are  remnants.  Lake  Trasimeno 
has  persisted  because  it  lay  in  a  bay  ofi  the  main  strait,  and 
must  have  been  originally  deep.  Further,  not  only  did  the 
gradual  filling  up  of  the  original  arm  of  the  sea  take  place 
irregularly,  so  that  lakes  were  left,  it  also  resulted  in  uncer- 
tainty of  drainage.     This  is  a  point  of  some  interest,  for  a 


THE  VAL  DI  CHIANA  309 

Biniilar  uncertainty,  due  to  a  different  cause,  is  common  in 
recently  glaciated  countries  like  Scotland  (p.  258).  There  the 
ice  smoothed  watersheds,  and  when  the  streams  began  to  flow 
in  their  old  beds  after  the  passing  away  of  the  glaciers,  there 
was,  near  the  summit  of  the  old  watershed,  a  swampy  area 
where  topographic  accidents  determined  the  exact  position 
of  the  new  watershed.  Where  very  steep  lateral  streams  flow 
into  such  ice-smoothed  valleys,  they  naturally  lose  speed, 
and  therefore  carrying  power,  as  they  emerge  from  the  steep 
hill-side  into  the  central  valley  with  its  gentle  slopes.  Thus 
they  form  large  cones,  which  may  become  watersheds.  In 
other  words,  a  lateral  stream  emerging  on  a  low  watershed 
may  originally  flow  to  the  right  in  the  main  valley.  At  a 
time  of  flood,  however,  it  may  throw  down  so  much  detritus 
as  to  block  its  own  path,  and  thus  find  an  easier  path  to  the 
left.  A  constant  repetition  of  the  process  of  deposition 
may  cause  a  steady  shift  of  the  watershed  in  one  direction. 
This  is  what  has  been  happening  in  the  Val  di  Chiana,  as  we 
shall  see  directly. 

In  the  case  of  the  Val  di  Chiana  the  lowness  of  the  water- 
shed is  due  not  to  glacial  smoothing  but  to  the  way  in  which 
an  old  arm  of  the  sea  has  been  filled  up  by  land-derived 
debris.  But  here  also  all  through  historical  time  there  has 
been  constant  changes  in  the  watershed,  man  having  assisted 
the  process  for  his  own  purposes.  The  net  result  has  been 
that  the  Arno  has  gained  water  at  the  expense  of  the  Tiber, 
and,  since  the  watershed  remains  low,  communication  between 
Florence  and  Rome  is  easy. 

Further,  the  judicious  tourist  will  not  fail  to  note  that 
while  the  valley  of  the  Umbrian  Chiana,  continued  into  that 
of  the  Paglia,  affords  the  most  direct  access  to  Rome,  yet  the 
detour  necessary  to  reach  the  upper  Tiber  valley  at  Perugia 
is  not  great,  and  from  here  another  easy  route,  possibly  also 
an  old  arm  of  the  sea,  leads  past  Assisi  and  Fohgno  to  join 
the  first   hne   near   Orte.     So  shght  is  the  difference  that 


310     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

return  tickets  give  a  choice  of  routes,  and  the  vagaries  of  the 
Tertiary  sea  permit  the  twentieth-century  tourist  to  visit 
Perugia  and  Assisi  on  his  way  south  and  Orvieto  on  his 
return  to  the  north,  without  additional  payment. 

The  actual  conditions  in  the  Val  di  Chiana  have  varied 
very  greatly  since  records  have  been  kept,  a  fact  which  the 
guide-book  does  not  fail  to  note.  To  describe  the  conditions 
in  detail  would  be  tedious,  but  a  few  words  on  the  causation 
of  the  changes,  and  their  significance,  may  be  of  interest. 

In  regard  to  the  latter  point  one  must  remember  that 
any  interruption  of  drainage  means  swamps,  and  in  Italy 
swamps  mean  mosquitoes,  fever,  depopulation.  If  a  region 
becomes  progressively  more  swampy  settlements  rise  up  on 
the  sides  of  the  valley,  and  there  is  a  period  when  the  culti- 
vators risk  malaria  in  the  daytime  by  attempting  to  till 
the  wet  ground,  returning  up  the  hillside  in  the  evening  to 
sleep.  If  the  swampiness  increases  further  the  land  becomes 
absolutely  waste.  On  the  other  hand,  when  swamps  diminish 
population  and  cultivation  descend  towards  the  valleys. 

The  cause  of  the  changes  in  this  particular  case  we  have 
already  suggested  ;  let  us  give  a  few  details.  In  Roman 
times  the  Val  di  Chiana  up  to  Arezzo  drained  into  the  Tiber 
and  was  healthy  and  populous.  But  the  stream  draining  it 
ran  approximately  parallel  to  the  mountains,  in  an  open 
valley  of  gentle  slope  (an  old  sea  bed,  cf.  p  308.).  Lateral 
torrential  streams,  debouching  into  this  open  valley,  laid 
down  cones  which  blocked  the  flow  of  the  main  stream, 
and  cut  of!  its  headwaters  from  the  Tiber.  Thus  upstream 
swamps  were  formed,  with  the  consequences  already  de- 
scribed. The  result  was  to  render  waste,  in  the  later  middle 
ages,  a  stretch  of  land  from  Arezzo  to  Montepulciano.  But  as 
the  watershed  constantly  shifted  southwards,  i.e.  towards 
the  Tiber,  in  course  of  time  a  stream  began  to  flow  northwards 
from  the  other  side  of  the  watershed  towards  the  Arno. 
Aided  by  man,  this  stream  increased  in  importance,  drained 


THE  CITY  AS  ORGANISM  311 

the  swampy  northern  part  of  the  valley,  and  rendered  human 
settlement  here  once  again  possible.  The  watershed  has 
gone  on  shifting  southward,  and  careful  regulation  has 
steadily  diminished  the  amount  of  swampy  land,  as  well  as 
reducing  the  area  of  the  lakes  of  the  region,  so  that  the  Val 
di  Chiana  has  become  progressively  more  fertile  and  pros- 
perous after  long  centuries  of  desolation. 

Space  does  not  permit  of  a  fuller  consideration  of  the 
towns  of  Italy  and  the  causes  to  which  they  are  due.  What 
has  been  said  should  suggest  lines  along  which  investigation 
may  profitably  be  directed,  and  Fischer's  monograph  should 
also  be  consulted.  In  regard  to  Provence  also  we  can  scarcely 
sum  up  the  facts  better  than  by  repeating  that  its  easy  access 
to  the  Mediterranean  Sea  makes  it  thoroughly  Mediterranean 
in  character. 

Both  in  Provence  and  in  Italy,  we  may  repeat,  we  have 
perhaps  the  most  perfect  examples  available  of  human 
settlements  ;  proofs  of  what  man  can  accompUsh  at  his  best. 
Here  the  people  made  the  city  and  the  city  was  the  people. 
That  spectacle — so  familiar  to  us — of  great  communities 
with  their  eyes  turned  always  towards  a  distant  centre, 
where  sits  the  power  which  regulates  their  lives  down  to  the 
minor  details  of  domestic  policy,  whither  their  members  flee 
when  they  can,  which  controls  their  taste,  their  manners 
and  fashions,  was  not.  The  individual  city  was  an  organism 
with  its  own  life,  its  own  ideals,  its  own  politics,  which 
were  of  surpassing  interest  to  its  citizens,  a  region  in  which 
reigned  that  large,  free  life  which  Daudet  has  imaged  in 
the  lines  which  appear  at  the  head  of  this  chapter.  Some 
signs  perhaps  there  are  to-day  of  the  dawn  of  a  new  civic 
spirit  among  ourselves,  some  appreciation  of  the  dangers, 
of  the  disadvantages  of  centralised  government,  with  its 
mechanical  efiiciency,  as  compared  with  the  splendid  waste- 
fulness of  life. 

All  the  spring  glory  of  hawthorn  bush  or  apple  tree,  the 


312     PROVENCE  AND  TRANSAPENNINE  ITALY 

naturalists  tell  us,  is  necessary  in  order  that  the  bees  may  be 
induced  to  bring  a  few  grains  of  alien  pollen  ;  but  one  has  but 
to  look  upon  the  blooming  tree  to  know  that  it  is  false.  Life 
when  it  gives  at  all  must  give  in  gorgeous  handfuls  ;  it  is 
our  efi&cient  machines  only  that  measure  grain  by  grain. 
Our  cities  will  flower  again  as  they  did  in  the  brave  days  of 
old  by  the  mighty  Rhone  or  on  the  hilltops  of  the  Apennines, 
when  they  become  once  again  the  natural  expressions  of  the 
life  of  a  locality.  Till  that  day  dawns  we  can  only  learn 
what  a  city  should  be  by  visiting  those  oldtime  towns  which 
have  been  left  stranded  as  an  exemplar  and  a  lesson  for  those 
who  have  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear.  Those  cities  are  the 
gift  of  the  Mediterranean  world  to  our  civiUsation.  When 
at  last  we  come  to  our  strength  and  are  city  builders  in  our 
turn,  shall  our  success  be  yet  greater  ?  The  future  must 
show,  but  meantime  it  were  to  miss  half  life's  good  not  to 
see  the  splendours  of  those  Italian  towns. 


INDEX 


Aare,  R..  33,  41,  42,  191,  192,  197- 
199. 

Glacier,  193-195,  198,  200. 

-schlucht,  204. 
Abbey  of  St.  Acheul,  276. 
Acheulean  man,  279. 
Adelboden,  195. 

Adige  (Etsch),  R.,  44,  113,210-212. 
283. 

Glacier,  186. 
Adoxa,  Go. 
Adria,  290. 
Adriatic  Sea,  282,  285,  288,  304. 

306. 
Agave,  6,  7,  83,  94,  95. 
Ain,  R.,  33,  141. 
Aisne,  R.,  277. 
Aix-les-Bains,  37. 
Alassio,  243. 
Alban  Hills,  226.  238. 
Alder,  78,  100,  103. 
AU6e  Blanche,  258. 
Alessandria,  42,  283,  287. 
Aletsch  glacier,  182,  184,  192,  204. 

258. 
Alps,  Austrian,  166,  183. 

Calcareous,    39,    176,    179,    180. 

183,  207,  210,  212. 

Central  Chain  of,  27,  37,  38,  40- 
43, 169, 189,  210.  212,  214,  249. 

Climatic  effects  of,  55,  58,  145. 
241,  245. 

Crystalline,  179,  180.  183,  210. 
211. 

Eastern,  170,  175-179,  181,  183. 

184.  187,  197,  225,  254,  258. 
Folds  of,  18.  20.  21.  266.  267. 
Glaciers  of,  69,  109,  180-88,  258. 
Maritime,  44,  177,  241. 
Passes  of,  294,  295,  298. 
Pennine,  183,  196. 


People  of,  107. 

Plants  of,  60,  67,  76,  77,  84,  89 

ct  aeq. 
Rivers  of.  33,  42,  180,  197,  201, 

283,  285-287. 
Structure   of,    38-41,    176,    177, 

215.  225,  252. 
Swiss,  177. 

Terraces  of,  202.  203. 
Tunnels  of,  35,  43,  294. 
Western,  170,  175-178,  181,  187, 

210. 
'Alpines,'  67,  105,   106,   108,  111, 

112. 
Alpine  valleys,  186,  187.  198,  199. 

200,  201,  204. 
Amiens,  28,  275-279. 
Androsace,  106,  112. 
Anemone,  105,  112,  129. 
Apennines,  Mts.,   18,  21,  22,  225, 

226,  241,    244,   281,  283-287, 

292,  298,  307,  308,  312. 
Aquileja,  290. 

Aquitaine,  266,  268,  269,  280. 
Archaean  rocks,  265,  266. 
Arco.  198. 

Arctic-alpine  plants.  71. 
Ardennes.   19,  21,  23,  24,  26,  28, 

171,  266,  267,  271,  272. 
Arezzo,  310. 
Argel6s,  81. 

Arlberg,  36.  37,  44,  180. 
Aries,  31,  306. 

Armorican  chain,  19,  20,  260,  267. 
Arnica,  mountain.  104. 
Arno.  R.,  305,  308-310. 
Arolla,  99. 
.\rran,  256. 

Arthur's  Seat,  4,  227,  228. 
Artois,  272. 
Arve,  R.,  199. 

SIS 


314 


FREQUENTED  WAYS 


Assisi,  309,  310. 

Atrio  del  Cavallo,  233,  235,  236. 

Auer,  213. 

Auvergne,  4,  25. 

Avignon,  31,  38,  44. 

Avisio  valley,  213. 

Awe,  L.,  256. 

Azalea,  mountain,  104. 

Ballachulish,  259. 

Barley,  130,  145,  147,  149,  157. 

Basel,  26-30,  36,  41,  197. 

Bavaria,  41. 

Bavarian  Highlands,  19,  20,  23. 

Beans,  149,  157. 

Bearberry,  104,  123. 

Beauce,  278,  279. 

Becco  di  Mezzodi,  220. 

Beech,  distribution  of,  74,  75. 

Woods,  77,  79,  81,  84,  87,  129. 
Belalp,  184. 

Belfort,  27,  28,  35,  36,  37. 
Belgium,  171,  270-272. 
Bellegarde,  33. 
Belluno,  287. 
Belpberg,  194,  198. 
Ben  Nevis,  257,  258. 
Bergschrund,  182. 
Berne.  28,  35,  36,  37,  42,  186,  194, 

197,  198. 
Bernese  Oberland,  39. 
Bernina,  Mts.,  175,  183. 
Bienne,  L.,  41,  197,  198. 
Birch,  78. 
Black  bryony,  76. 
Black  Forest,    19-21,   23,   26,    73. 

81,  267. 
Black  wood  of  Rannoch,  80. 
Blaeberry,  101,  103,  104. 
Blois,  278. 
Bludenz,  180. 
Bliimlisalp,  Mts.,  200. 
Boespitze,  Mt.,  220. 
Bog  moss  (Sphagnum),  125. 
Bog  myrtle,  126. 
Bohemian  Highlands,  19,  20,  23. 
Bologna,  45,  283. 
Bora,  53. 

Bordeaux,  49,  269. 
Botzen  (Bolzano^,  44,  57,  58,  153, 

154,  209,  210,  212,  213,  217. 
Boulogne,  269. 


Bourget,  Lac  du,  34,  37,  43. 

Bra,  287. 

Brenner  pass,  36,  37,  44,  45,  57, 

177,  209,  295. 
Brenta,  Mts.,  211. 

R.,  210,  212,  283,  295. 
Bresse,  141. 

Brienz,  L.,  40,  195,  200. 
Brig,  36,  204. 
Brindisi,  304. 
Brittany,    19,    22,    24,    158,    171, 

266-268,  273. 
Brugg,  197. 
Briinig  pass,  200. 
Brussels,  28.  30,  269. 
Burgundy,  145,  278. 

Gate  of,  26,  27. 
Butcher's  broom,  90. 
Butterwort,  125. 

Cairngorms,  Mts.,  255. 
Calabria,  305. 
Calais,  27,  28,  269. 
Caledonian  Land,  23. 

Mountain  chain,  19,  252,  253. 
Callater,  L.,  255. 
Campagna,  226,  238. 
Campania,  226. 
Cannes,  242. 
Cape  Fig-marigold,  6. 
Capodimonte,  230. 
Capri,  90,  226. 
Carboniferous     mountain     chain, 

267. 
Carob,  83,  154. 

Carpathians,  Mts.,  18,  20,  21,  73. 
Caspian  Sea,  14,  18. 
Catalpa,  81,  95,  123. 
Caucasus,  Mts.,  18,  74. 
Central  Plateau  (France),   19,  20, 

22,  24-26,  33,  265,  266,  268, 

271,  273. 
Cevennes,  Mts.,  21,  22. 
Chablais,  39. 
Chalons,  28. 

Chamb6ry,  32,  33,  34,  39. 
Chamonix,  3,  184. 
Champagne,  278. 
Channel  Lslands,  143. 
Chartres,  173,  270,  275,  278-280. 
Chestnut,  129,  154,  240. 
Chiana,  R.,  309. 


INDEX 


Chios,  Ibland  of,  88. 
Chiusi,  L.,  308. 
Christ's  thorn,  87. 
Chur  (Coiro),  177. 
Cimad'Asta,  210,  212. 
Cinque  Torri,  2  Hi,  220,  249. 
Cirque-s,  187,  254. 
Cistus,  83,  89. 
Citrus  fruits,  129. 
Climate,  48  et  seq. 

Continental,  4,  57,  74,  130. 

Mediterranean,  4,  31,  51-56,  75- 
78,  82  et  seq.,  153,  242,  243. 

Oceanic,  52,  54,  tiO,  75,  130. 
Clover,  149. 
Cluse,  33,  3G. 
Coalfields,  14,  271,  272. 
Col  d'Altare,  175,  241. 
Col  de  Fenetre,  183. 
Col  de  Saverne,  28. 
Col  di  Tenda,  248. 
CoUe  Jlargherita,  235. 
Colle  Umberto,  230. 
Colli  Euganei,  285. 
Cologne,  28,  30. 
Combal,  L.,  258. 
Como,  L.,  175,  177,  241. 
Confinboden,  218. 
Coniferous  woods,  74,  79,  80,  81. 

99,  100,  102. 
Constance,  L.,  40,  41,  175,  177. 
Continental  shelf,  18. 
Cork  oak,  86,  87,  90,  150,  153. 
Cornicho  road,  259. 
Cornwall,  266,  267,  273. 
Corrie,  257,  259. 
Corsica,  90. 

Cortina,  209,  213,  216.  287. 
C6te  d'Or,  27,  30,  268,  269. 
Cotton,  149,  155. 
Coul  Beg,  Mt..  251. 

More,  Mt.,  251. 
Cowberry,  103,  104,  123. 
Cranberry,  104. 
Cristallo,  Mt.,  220. 
Croda  da  Lago,  Mt.,  220. 
Cruachan,  Mt.,  256. 
Culoz,  34,  96. 
Currants,  153. 
Cyclamen,  83,  90.  129. 
Cyclones,  51,  52. 
Cypress,  83.  87. 


Dachhtein  beds,  217-220. 

Dala  glacier,  200,  201. 

Dalmatia,  53,  89. 
JPanube,  R.,  17,  41,  42,  175.  197. 

Daubcnhorn.  200. 
j  Daubensoe,  200. 

Dauphiny,  166. 
I  Deo,  R.,  255. 
I  Devon.  267.  273. 
I  Dieppe,  26!). 
I  Digne,  248. 
!  Dijon,  27,  29.  30,  34,  268. 

Dolomite,  214-221. 

Dolomites,  44,  176,  207  et  aeq.,  249, 
251. 

Doubs,  R.,  26,  33,  36. 

Drac,  R.,  39. 

Dranse,  R.,  201. 

Drave  valley,  178.  180. 

Drei  Zinnen,  209,  220. 

Dryas  octopilala,  104. 

Durance,  valley  of,  248. 

Earth  blocks,  20-23,  225,  252. 
Ecological    botany,    66,    67,    72, 

115. 
Edaphic  factors,  66. 
Edelweiss,  106,  112. 
Eggental,  211.  213. 
Eggishorn,  184. 
Eifel,  4. 

Eisack,  R.,  210,  212. 
Emd,  202. 

Engadine,  102,  103,  175,  176. 
Engelberg.  249. 

England,   23,   49,   5(k   67,   74,   76, 
"  115-117,    119.    136,   137,    145, 

151,  171,  252. 
Enns  valley,  178,  ISO. 
Eritrichium.  106. 
Et.sch,  see  Adige. 
Eucalyptus  globulus,  94. 
Evergreen  buckthorn,  87. 
Evergreen  oak,  set  Holm  oak. 
I  Everlastings  (Helichrysum),  89. 
Evreux,  278. 

'  Falzareoo  Pass,  216. 
I  Fassatal,  213. 

Fiesole,  307. 

Findelen,  203. 
Glacier,  184. 


316 


FREQUENTED  WAYS 


Finland,  23,  251. 

Finsteraarhorn,  Mt.,  179,  183,  184. 

Fionnay,  183,  203. 

Fir,  Douglas,  80. 

Flax,  90,  141,  149. 

Florence,  174,  291,  292,  299,  305, 

307-309. 
Flushing,  28. 
Folded  Mts.,   5,   21,   22,   45,   225, 

253. 
Foligno,  309. 

Fore  Alps,  39,  40,  41,  42,  75. 
Fort  William,  259. 
France,  7,  8,  15,  22,  28,  51,  53,  55, 

77,  80,  81,  89,  115,  145,  147, 

151,   153,  156,  158,   1G6,   171, 

173,  265  et  seq. 
Franzensfeste,  209. 
Frasne,  34,  36,  37. 
Freiburg,  42. 
Fumaroles,  231,  237. 
Fiinfiingerspitze,  Mt.,  218. 
Furka  pass,  179. 

G^TA,  Gulf  of,  306. 

Garda,  L.,  42,  44,  55,  84.  87,  152, 

177,  186,  198,  241,  285. 
Garigue,  85,  90,  91,  101,  114,  119. 
Gemmi  pass.  197,  200,  201. 
Geneva,  34,  75,  96,  166,  196,  197. 
Lake  of,  33,  35,  39,  41,  43,  75, 

197  199. 
Genoa,  92,  96,   175,  242-244,  246, 

248   295. 
Gentians,  104,  105,  123. 
Germany,  28,  45,  68,  80,  114,  119, 

145,  171,  269. 
Glaciers,  3,  109,  181  et  seq. 
Glarner  Alps,  39. 
Gletschergarten,  189. 
Globularia,  112. 
Goat  Fell,  Mt.,.256. 
Goats,  101,  129. 
Gorner  glacier,  182,  184. 
Grande  Chartreuse,  39. 
Gran  Paradiso,  Mt.,  43. 
Granges,  36. 
Oral,  188. 

Great  Spannort,  Mt.,  249. 
Grenoble,  39. 
Gr6sivaudan,  39. 
Grirnsel  pass,  203,  204. 


Grindelwald,  166,  182,  184. 
Grisons,  179. 

Grodnertal,  102,  213,  218,  219. 
Grohmann  Spitze,  Mt.,  218. 
Gross  Glockner,  Mt.,  184. 

Hanbtjby  Garden,  92. 

Hardt,  26,  28. 

Harwich,  28. 

Harz,  Mts.,  19,  23,  73,  81. 

Haslital,  204. 

Hawkweed,  105. 

Heather,  116  e<  aeq. 

Heaths,  71,  114  e<  seq. 

Hebrides,  250,  251,  252. 

Hemp,  141. 

Hercynian  Chain,  19,  20. 

Hohe  Tauern,  Mts.,  210,  211. 

Holland,  29,  68,  115,  171. 

Holm  or  Evergreen  oak,    86,   87, 

90,  123. 
Honevsuckle,  65,  103. 
Hook  of  Holland,  28. 
Houseleeks,  106,  112. 
Hungary,  21. 
Hy^res,  243,  244. 

Ice  Age,  4,  69,  70,  79,  80,  104,  109, 

119,    138,    181,   184-190,  200, 

203,  253,  282,  285. 
Industrial  Revolution,  133. 
Inn,  valley  of,  L78,  180. 
Innertkirchen,  204. 
Innsbruck,  36,  37.  309. 
Ireland,  6,  23,  49,  51,  76,  138,  252, 

267. 
Isar,  R.,  50. 
Ischia,  226. 
Ie6re,  R.,  39. 
Isoia  Bella,  92. 

Madre,  92. 
Italy,  1,  26,  27,  30,  34,  36,  38,  43, 

53-55,  84,  150,  153,  154,  158, 

228,  241,  281  ei  seq. 
Ivrea,  285. 

Jasmine,  90. 
Judas  tree,  96. 
Juniper,  104. 

Jura,  Mts.,  26,  33-41,  75,  191-193, 
196,  197,  266,  267,  431. 
Franconian,  32,  41. 


INDEX 


;i7 


Franco-Swiss,  32,  33,  41,  141. 
Swabian,.32,  41. 
Swiss,  73. 

Kander,  R.,  199. 

Glacier,  195,  199. 

Valley,  19(),  199,  200. 
Kandersteg,  30,  196,  200. 
'  Kare,'  187,  188. 
Karerseo,  213. 
Kermos  oak,  87,  88. 
Kitchen  middons,  71. 
Klobenstein,  211. 
Kuf  stein,  178.  186. 

La  Grave,  102. 

Lammern  glacier,  196,  200,  201. 

La  Mortola.  92. 

Landeck,  178,  180. 

'  Landes,'  81. 

Langkofel,  Mt.,  214,  218,  220. 

Langres,  plateau  of,  27. 

Languodoc,  75. 

Laon,  27. 

Larch,  78,  80,  87,  89,  102. 

Laurel,  92,  93. 

Lausanne,  34,  35,  37,  43. 

Lauterbrunnen,  202. 

Leghorn,  300. 

Le  Havre,  269. 

Leak,  201. 

Lewis,  250. 

Lido,  288,  289. 

Ligui'ia,  245. 

Ligurian  Alps,  287. 

Apennines,  241. 
Lille,  272. 
Linth  glacier,  193. 

Valley,  192. 
Lisbon,  95,  96. 
Little  St.  Bernard.  109. 
Lochnagar,  80,  255. 
Loess,  69,  71.  73,  77,  80,  85,  127. 
Loire,  R.,  274,  275,  278. 
Lombardy,  81,  84,  140,  155,  177, 

243,  244.  286,  287,  299. 
Lomond,  L.,  256. 
London,  3,  4,  48,  49,  55-58,   108, 
270,  277. 

Basin,  271,  272. 
Lorboer.  see  Laurel. 
Lorraine,  172. 


Lcitfichberg  tunnel,  28,  30,  37,  195. 
Low  Countries,  278. 
Lucerne,  36,  41,  129,  157,  100,  189, 
192,  200,  205. 
Lake  of,  40.  249. 
Lugano,  L.,  43,  241. 
Lutschine  glacier,  199. 
Luxemburg,  28. 

Magoiore.  L..  43,  92,  95,  177,  241. 

Magra,  R.,  306. 

Maize,  130,  149,  157. 

Malta,  14,  18,  156. 

Maquis,  85,  87,  90,  114,  119,  120, 

129. 
Marjelensco,  258. 
Marmolata,  Mt.,  220.  " 
Marno.  R.,  30,  274,  277. 
Marseilles,  156,  240. 
Martigny,  75,  179,  190,  197,  204. 
Mastic  tree,  01,  88. 
Matterhorn.  Mt.,  202,  203,  249. 
Meall  an  t'Suidhe,  L.,  258. 
Mediterranean  area,  0,  15,  20,  25, 
^,  44,  45,  50,  51,   190,  297- 

302. 
Climate,  4,  31,  51-56,  75-78,  82 
.      et  eeq.,  153,  242,  243. 
Plants,  4,  60-65,  68,  72,  78,  98, 

101, 114, 126, 129-131, 144-158, 

245   246. 
Sea,  18,  49.  192,  268,  288,  311. 
Meiringen,  200,  205. 
Mentone,  56,  190,  242,  248. 
Meran,  82,  153,  178. 
Metz,  29,  30. 
Meuse,  R.,  21,  30. 
Mezereon,  104. 
Miage  glacier,  258. 
Midland  valley,  253. 
Milan,  36,  55,  283,  288,  292,  293. 
Milkwort,  124. 
Millet,  149.  157. 
Misenum.  229. 
Mistral,  53.  57,  243. 
Modane,  43. 
Modena,  42,  283. 
Monaco,  240,  241.  247.  248. 
^lonferrato,  285.  287,  295. 
Montepulciano,  L.,  308,  310. 
Montpollier,  92. 
Montreux,  100,  190. 


318 


FREQUENTED  WAYS 


Morvan,  25,  27. 
Moselle,  R.,  28,  30. 
Moutiers,  36. 
Mt.  Berici,  285. 

Blanc,  181,  184,  258. 

Cenis,  34,  37,  43,  81,  109,  240, 
295. 

d'Or,  35. 

Gibloux,  194. 

Moro,  183. 

Nuovo,  229. 

Rosa,  181. 

Somma,  233,  234. 

Ventoux,  38. 

Viso,  43. 
Mulhouse,  28. 
Mugnano,  R.,  307. 
Mulberry,  155-158,  240,  300. 
Munich,  50,  57,  58,  295. 
Murano,  289. 
Mur,  R.,  178. 
Myrtle,  90. 
My  then,  Mts.,  249. 

Namur,  28. 
Nancy,  30,  268,  269. 
Napf,  192. 

Naples,  4,  14,  45,  85,  92,  96,  305. 
Bay  of,  224,  225-227,  230,  241. 
306. 
Nemi,  238. 
Nettle  tree,  95. 
Neuchatel,  L.,  33,  41,  43,  197. 
Neve,  181,  189. 
Nice,  242,  248. 
Ntmes,  306. 

Norfolk  Island  pine,  96. 
Norway,  16,  49,  51,  74,  252. 
Novara,  42. 

Oak,  cork,  86,  87,  90,  150,  153. 

Deciduous,  77-79,  84. 

Holm,  86,  87,  90,  123. 

Kermes,  87,  88. 
Oats,  130,  136. 
Oberalp  pass,  179. 
Oberbotzen,  210. 
Odenwald,  19,  23. 
Oder,  R.,  69. 
Odessa,  74. 
Oetztal,  104. 
Oetztaler  Alps,  184,  201. 


Oise,  R.,  209,  274. 

Oleander,  90. 

Olive,  84,  90,  123,  129,  131,  149, 

150,  157,  240,  245.  300. 
Olten,  36,  190,  191,  197. 
Oranges,  83,  92,  154. 
Orchid,  90. 

Orleans,  269,  274,  278. 
Orte,  309. 

Ortler,  Mts.,  184,  211. 
Orvieto,  310. 
Ostend,  28. 
Ottajano,  236. 

Padua,  92,  285. 
Psestum,  306. 
Paglia,  R.,  309. 
Palms,  91,  92. 

Paris,  27.  28,  30,  95,  146,  168,  171, 
172, 268-270, 274, 278, 280, 282. 

Basin  of,  24.  266,  268-275,  281, 
283. 
Parma,  283. 
Paulownia,  95,  123. 
Peaches,  129,  152,  154. 
Pedicularis.  106. 
Pegli,  92. 

Pennines,  Mts.,  118. 
Pepper  tree,  92. 
Perpignan,  87,  156. 
Perugia,  302,  309,  310. 
Phillyrea,  87. 
Phlegrscan   fields,    226,    227,    229, 

230.  233. 
Phylloxera,  142,  150,  151,  158. 
Piacenza,  288. 

Piave,  R.,  209,  210,  212,  283,  287. 
Piedmont,  175,  177,  233,  248,  287. 
Pilatus,  Mt.,  40,  105. 
Pine,  80,  83. 

Aleppo,  86. 

AroUa,  99. 

Maritime,  86. 

Mountain,  87,  89,  103,  120. 

Scots,  78,  79,  87,  103. 

Stone,  87,  100. 
Pinerolo,  281. 
Pisa,  306,  308. 
Pistachio,  154. 
Pistacia,  see  Mastic  tree. 
Pistoia,  308. 
Pittosporum,  83. 


INDEX 


319 


Plant  association,  90,  100,  129. 
Plattenhorn.  Mt.,  200. 
Plattkofel,  Mt.,  218. 
Po.  R.,  21,  42,  283,  286-288.  297. 

Plain  of,  281,  282.  285.  304. 
Pomegranate,  84,  154. 
Pompeii,  224,  228,  232,  233. 
Pontarlier,  34-30. 
I'ortugal,  53. 
Posillipo,  230. 
Possneckorvveg,  219. 
Pracchia,  308. 
Prosanella.  Mts.,  211. 
Prickly  pear,  6,  94,  95. 
Primula,  105,  112. 
Procida,  226. 
Provence,  44,  53.  54.  75,  95,  152, 

172,   174,  246,  266,  280,  298, 

299,  301.  302.  310. 
Pustertal,  180,  209. 
Pyrenees,  Mts.,  18,  81,  87,  98.  103, 

156,  166,  169,  266,  267,  297. 

R.UBLBEDS,  217-219,  221. 
Ravenna,  283.  284,  290,  291,  306. 
References,  45,  58,  81,   113,   127, 

159,  205,  222,  238,  248,  263, 

280,  295. 
Reichenbach  fall,  205. 
Reims,  27,  275,  277,  278,  280. 
Reuss  glacier,  193. 
Valley,  179,  192. 
Revermont,  141. 
Rhenish  Uplands,  19.  20. 
Rhme,  R.,  17,  23,  26,  33.  41,  69, 

177,  179,  181,  192,  196. 
Middle,  27-30,  145,  171,  207-269, 

200,  278. 
Upper,  179. 

Rhododendron,  Alpine.   100.   101, 

104. 
Rhone,  R.,  25,  26,  33,  35,  39.  43.  75, 

179, 196, 199, 268, 298, 300,312. 
Glacier.    192-194,    190-198,  200, 

201,  204. 
Ria,  5,  6. 

Rice,  146.  149.  155. 

Rieder  Alp,  184. 

Rienz,  R.,  180,  209,  210,  212. 

Rif?elalp,  99,  203. 

Riffelberg,  203. 

Rigi,  40. 


Rimmi,  281,  283,  304. 
Rittnorhorn,  Mt.,  211,  214. 
Kiva,  55,  87. 
Riviera,  4,  34,  44,  45,  49,  53-57,  60, 

62,  84,  90,  92,  94,  98,  153,  154, 

156,  174,  240  et  acq.,  259,  289, 

306. 
Robinia,  6,  81. 
Romanclie  valley,  102. 
Rome,  96,  174,  226,  238,  299,  305, 

308,  309. 
Rosongarten,  Mts.,  213,  220. 
Roubaix,  272. 
Rouen,  270. 
Roussillon,  156. 
Rothiemurchus,  80. 
Roy,  glen,  258. 
Rye,  130,  130,  141. 

Saas,  183,  202. 
St.  Elmo,  230. 

St.  Gothard,  30,  37,  42,  43,  45. 
Salerno,  305,  306. 
Salza  valley,  180. 
Salzburg,  180. 
Sambre,  R.,  209,  287. 
San  Bernardino,  43,  109. 
San  Martino,  210. 
Santa  Caterina,  184. 
Santis,  Mt.,  39,  139,  180,  250. 
Sa6ne,  R.,  20,  27,  34,  268,  298. 
-Rhone  valley,  30,  33,  34,  36. 
Saponaria,  104. 
Savona,  243. 
Savoy,  166. 

Saxifrage,  112.      \^     ^\^  ^^ 

Scandinavia.  3.  5,  23,  50,  61,  71. 
Schaflhauson,  41,  186. 
Schlern,  Mt.,  209,  212,  217,  218. 
Schluderbacli.  209. 
Schwarzsee.  203. 
Schynige  Platte.  105. 
Scilly  Isles,  55-57. 
Scotland,  5,  6,  23,  74.  76,  115,  116, 

121,  123,  124,  136,  137. 
Highlands  of,  79,  80,   119.   135, 

138.   171,   174.   187,   188,  208, 

249  et  seq.,  267,  271. 
Seine,  R.,  27,  30.  270,  274,  275. 
Soiser  alp,  207.  218. 
Sella.  Mis..  218.  219.  221. 
6'enecto  incanay  106. 


2  "> 


-1-9. 


320 


FREQUENTED  WAYS 


Serbia,  75,  84. 

Sheep,  129. 

Sicily,  18,  45,  75,  85,  305,  306. 

Sierra  Nevada,  18,  169. 

Silene,  104,  105,  112. 

Silkworms,  151,  155-157. 

Simmen  glacier,  199. 

Simmental,  195,  199. 

Simplon,  35-37,  43,  105,  106. 

Sixt,  81. 

Smilax,  89,  90. 

Soldanella,  106,  112. 

Solden,  104,  184. 

Solfatara,  230-233. 

Somme,  R.,  275-277,  279. 

Sophora,  96. 

Sorapis,  Mt.,  220. 

Sorrento.  226. 

Spain,  19,  20,  22,   51-53,   95,   153, 

297. 
Spanish  broom,  89. 

Chestnut,  87. 
Spessart,  19,  23. 
Spezia,  244,  306. 
Spiez,  198. 
Spina,  290. 
Spliigen  pass,  177. 
Spruce,  80,  87,  102. 
Stac  Polly,  Mt.,  251. 
Stalden,  202. 
Stanserhorn,  Mt.,  40. 
Strait  of  Dover,  269,  271,  272. 
Strait  of  Poitou,  268,  269. 
Strasburg,  28-30. 
Strawberry  tree,  76. 
Stubaitaler  Alps,  211. 
Sub-Alpine  chains,  39,  176. 
Sudetes,  Mts.,  73. 
Sugar,  153,  154. 

-beet,  69,  145. 

-cane,  155. 
Suilven,  Mt.,  251. 
Sulden,  184. 
Sundew,  125. 
Sutherland,  251. 
Sweden,  23,  49,  251. 
Swiss  plateau,  75,  177,  193. 
Switzerland,   39,  41,   75,   79,   166, 
175,  1-78,  182,  183,  203,  205. 

Tanaro,  R.,  285,  287. 
Taranto,  304. 


Terebinth  or  turpentine  tree,  84, 

88. 
Tertiary  rocks,  268,  270-282. 

Sea,  285,  308,  310. 
Thun,  36,  195,  198,  200,  205. 

Lake  of,  40,  195,  199,  200. 
Thuringenwald,  23. 
Thyme,  89. 

Tiber,  R.,  305,  308-310. 
Tiersertal,  213. 
Toblach,  209. 
Tofana,  Mt.,  220. 
Torbet,  202. 
Torridon,  L.,  251. 
Toul,  30. 
Trafoi,  184. 
Trasimeno,  L..  308. 
Tree-heath,  90. 
Tree  of  Heaven,  6. 
Trieste,  281,  295. 
Turin,  43,  281,  283,  285,  287,  288, 

295. 
Turnips,  130,  145. 
Tyrol,  see  Dolomites,  103,  176. 
Tyrrhenian  Sea,  225. 

Upper  Saizach,  178. 
Ural  Mts.,  14. 
Urserntal,  179. 

Vaccintjm,  103. 

Valais,    111,    141,    179,    180,    197, 

203. 
Val  de  Bagnes,  203. 
ValdiChiana,  308-311. 
Valencia,  153. 
Val  Lasties,  200. 
Vallorbe,  35,  36. 
Val  Sugana,  210. 
Valtellina,  178,  180. 
Variscan  Mts.,  267. 
Venetia,  177,  287,  299. 
Venice,  37,  209,  281-284,  287-294. 
Vent,  184. 
Veratrum,  123. 
Verona.  42,  44,  283,  295. 
Vesuvius,  1,  4,  224,  226-230,  232- 

238. 
Vienna,  41,  48,  175. 
Vine,  9,  129,  131,  141, 149, 150, 151, 

155,  157,  158,  240,  271,   300. 
Vintschgau,  178. 


INDEX 


321 


Violet,  106. 
Visp,  202,  204, 

R..  201. 

Glacier,  202. 
Vistula,  R.,  G9. 

Vosgos,   ly.  20,  23,  25-30,  33,  73, 
81,  266,  267. 

Wai^nsee,  40. 

Wales,  23,  251,  252,  257. 

Weisslahnbad,  213. 

Wheat.  09,  70,  130,  147,  149,  150, 

151,  157. 
White  Mounth,  255. 
Wildstrubel,  Mt.,  195. 


Wine,  150,  151,  157,  158. 
Wintergreen,  104. 
Worgl,  180. 
Wurtemberg,  41. 

YONNE,  R.,  27. 

Zermatt,  99,   109,   182,   183,  202, 

203. 
Zillertalor  Alps,  211. 
Zostera,  289. 
ZuK,  192. 

Zurich,  36,  41,  42,   166,   181,   186, 
192. 
Lake  of,  39,  40. 


Printed  in  Great  Britain  by  T.  and  A.  Constable  Ltd. 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


9  81 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

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